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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

Research  Library,  The  Getty  Research  Institute 


http://www.archive.org/details/summerdaysdowneaOOswee 


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SUMMER  DAYS  DOWN  EAST 


BY 


M.  F.    SWEETSER 


ILLUSTRATED     WITH    THIRTEEN  FULL-PAGE    HE  LI  O  TYPES 


PORTLAND 
C  H  I  S  H  O  L  M      BROTHERS 

i'  8  8  .s 


Copyrighted  in  1SS3, 
1?Y     HUGH     J.     CH  IS  HOLM 


PRESS  or 

*ROCKWELLSi 


CHURCH!  LL* 
BOSTON.' 


> 


CONTENTS. 


The  State  of   Maine i 

Portland 9 

*}ast\vard  from  portland .i3 

The  Kennebec-River  Route 13 

Brunswick  and  Harpswell 15 

topsham,  bowdoinham,  and  richmond .  21 

Gardiner 25 

Hallowell 29 

Augusta 31 

The  Valley,  from  Augusta  ro  Waterville 37 

Waterville 39 

PiTTSFIELD   AND   DeXTER 42 

■V^  .stern  Rcjte  to  Bangor 44 

Via  Lewiston  and  Winthrop 44 

Auburn  and  the  Lake-Auburn  Spring    .                45 

Lewiston 48 

Poland  Spring ^o 

Winthrop  and  Lake  Maranacook 52 

The  Nokth-Western  Wilderness 55 

Norridgewock  and  North  Anson 55 

EusTis  and  Flagstaff 60 

Skowhegan  a:.d  Solon 61 

The  Forks,  and  the  Canada  Road 67 

The  Rangeley  Lakes 71 

The  Lower  Androscoggin  Valley 71 

Farmington 74 

iU 


IV 


Contents, 


Strong  and  Phillips 77 

The  Rangeley  Lakes 79 

Fhe  Seaboard  of  Maine 90 

Bath,  and  the  Mouth  of  the  Kennebec 90 

boothbay  and  its  islands 94 

The  Classic  Maritime  Peninsulas 99 

Penobscot  Bay 107 

Camden  and  its  Mountains 112 

Belfast  and  Northport 115 

Fort  Point  and  Bucksport 116 

Castine iiS 

Mount  Desert 121 

Bangor  and  the  Northern  Forest 128 

Bangor 128 

The  Route  to  Moosehead  Lake 131 

Moosehead  Lake 134 

Chesuncook  and  Katahdin 137 

The  Eastern  Frontier 140 

The  Route  to  Aroostook  and  the  Maritime  Provinces        ....  140 

Aroostook  and  Madawaska 143 

Passamaquoddy  Bay 147 

Principal  Hotels  and  Boarding-Houses 151 

Index 156 


LIST  OF  HELIOTYPE  ENGRAVINGS. 


Maine  Central  Railroad  Station,  Woodford's. 

Kennebec  River  and  Ice-houses,  near  Richmond. 

Kennebec  River  and  Ice-houses,  from  Dresden  Camp-ground. 

South  Gardiner. 

Hallowell. 

Kennebec  River,  from  Maine  Central  Railroad,  North  of  Riverside. 

Vassalborough,  looking  South. 

Kennebec  River  and  Railroad  Bridge,  Skowhegan. 

Kennebec  River  below  Skowhegan. 

View  from  Maine  Central  Railroad,  near  Readiteld. 

Maine  Central  Railroad  Station,  Lake  Mara.\acook. 

Lake  Maranacook  Grove. 

Maine  Central  Railroad  Station,  Auburn. 


SUMMER   DAYS   DOWN   EAST. 


LMOST  half  of  the  domain  oWair  New  England  is  occupied 
by  the  twenty  million  acres  of  tlie  State  of  Maine,  a  vast  irreg- 
ular territory  fronting  the  sea  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other 
running  northward  almost  to  the  St.  Lawrence  River,  in  a 
^'^^^  sharp  wedge  which  cuts  deep  into  Canada.  It  covers  about 
y^^  the  same  area  as  Scotland,  or  Ireland,  or  the  Low  Countries,  or 
South  Carolina,  or  Indiana;  and  is  one-eighth  the  size  of  Texas,  one- 
eighteenth  the  size  of  Alaska.  The  sea-coast  extends  from  Kittery 
Point  to  Quoddy  Head,  a  distance  of  two  hundred  and  seventy-eight 
miles  in  a  straight  line;  but  exceeding  twenty-five  hundred  miles  when 
the  wonderful  net-work  of  bays,  fiords,  and  inlets  is  taken  into  consid- 
eration. Unlike  the  greater  part  of  the  Atlantic  seaboard,  bordered 
by  straight  lines  of  level  and  monotonous  sandy  beaches,  half  insulated 
by  still  lagoons,  the  coast  of  Maine  resembles  a  vast  fringe,  made  up 
of  hundreds  of  long  promontories  and  capes,  thrusting  their  rocks  and 
hills  down  through  and  around  the  deep  blue  inlets,  and  interlacing 
each  other  in  every  direction.  At  many  points  the  powerful  tides, 
ranging  from  twelve  to  eighteen  feet  and  attaining  phenomenal  height 
a  little  farther  eastward,  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  have  frayed  out  the 
outer  fringe  of  headlands,  leaving  its  fragments  in  the  form  of  count- 
less islands  and  islets  off  the  coast  or  embayed  between  protecting 
capes.  It  is  a  dangerous  shore,  with  its  myriads  of  rocky  fangs  pro- 
jecting far  into  the  path  of  international  commerce  ;  but  at  every  point 
of  risk  the  wise  paternal  government  has  stationed  its  light-houses,  fog- 

(O 


2  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

horns,  buoys,  and  other  warning  signals.  Here  and  there  stand  per- 
haps half  a  score  of  picturesque  old  stone  forts,  each  of  which  would 
be  shaken  down  in  ruin  if  a  shell  from  the  Inflexible  or  the  Lepanto 
should  fall  on  its  parade-ground. 

Among  these  islands  and  coves  dwell  thousands  of  the  hardiest 
of  New  England  seamen,  stalwart  and  clear-eyed  Vikings,  familiar  with 
all  the  coast  from  Battle  Harbor  to  the  Isle  of  Pines,  and  descendants 
of  ten  generations  of  gallant  mariners.  There  is  hardly  a  family  along 
the  coast  that  has  not  a  kinsman  at  sea,  or  does  not  own  a  sixteenth  or 
a  thirty-second  part  of  some  snug  little  fishing-vessel  on  the  Grand 
Banks.  Season  after  season  these  domestic  fleets  sail  away,  watched 
by  loving  eyes  until  they  are  hull-down  on  the  horizon  ;  and  later  they 
return  full-freighted  with  the  oroducts  of  their  ventures,  rounding  the 


't 


long  headlands,  and  exultantly  sweeping  up  to  the  home-anchorages, — 

"And  some  must  sail  to  the  banks  far  north 
And  set  their  trawls  for  the  hungry  cod,  — 

In  the  ghostly  fog  creep  back  and  forth 
Bj  shrouded  paths  no  foot  hath  trod; 

Upon  the  crews  the  ice-winds  blow, 

The  bitter  sleet,  the  frozen  snow,  — 
Their  lives  are  in  the  hand  of  God ! " 

At  the  heads  of  the  bays,  and  up  along  the  great  navigable  rivers, 
are  the  most  populous  towns  and  cities  of  the  State,  about  which  dwells 
the  chief  part  of  the  six  hundred  thousand  citizens  of  IMaine.  In  the 
outer  bays  are  scores  of  obscure  little  ports,  each  with  its  coasting  and 
fishing  fleet  of  a  few  schooners,  and  respectfully  regarding  some  adja- 
cent ship-building  town,  where  once  the  deep  Indiamcn  sailed  in  and 
out,  through  waters  that  are  now  vexed  only  by  an  occasional  steam- 
boat. Since  the  combined  malevolence  and  stupidity  of  Richmond, 
Liverpool,  and  Washington  destroyed  American  commerce,  a  great 
peace  has  settled  over  these  little  maritime  republics,  which  have  be- 
come, in  their  way,  impregnated  with  something  of  the  air  of  romance 
and  remembrance  which  dwells  about  Amalfi,  Salerno,  and  other 
decadent  ports  of  the  Old  World. 

Farther  up  the  rivers,  where  they  break  down  through  the  rocky 
ribs  of  Maine,  are  the  manufacturing   cities,  great  knots  of  factories 


Ancient  History.  3 

built  around  the  falls,  and  surrounded  with  the  crowded  homes  of 
foreign  operatives.  Among  the  intervening  highland  towns  are  myriads 
of  farms,  and  many  quiet  rural  hamlets,  dwindling  every  year  in 
importance  and  population,  as  successive  armies  of  their  sturdy  and 
enterprising  sons  join  the  great  westward  march,  following  the  star  of 
empire  far  out  on  the  prairies,  and  beyond,  until  they  see  the  sun  set 
behind  the  long  levels  of  the  Pacific. 

Beyond  this  tide-water  belt  rises  the  forest,  vast  enough  to  conceal 
states,  seven  times  larger  than  the  Black  Forest  of  Germany,  and 
covering  two-thirds  of  the  area  of  Maine.  Here  a  continual  attack  is 
made  upon  the  fastnesses  of  nature  by  the  lumbermen,  American, 
Indian,  and  French-Canadian  foresters,  familiar  with  all  the  intricacies 
of  this  land  of  the  mountain  and  the  flood.  As  Theodore  Winthrop 
well  said:  "Maine  has  two  classes  of  warriors  among  its  sons  — 
fighters  of  forest  and  fighters  of  seas.  Braves  must  join  one  or  the 
other  army.  The  two  are  close  allies."  Amid  these  leafy  leagues  are 
fifteen  hundred  lakes,  covering  one-fifteenth  of  the  area  of  the  State 
with  pure  and  pellucid  waters,  abounding  in  game-fish,  and  surrounded 
by  noble  scenery  of  forest  and  mountain.  The  abundant  natural 
attractions  of  these  sequestered  reservoirs  of  the  great  rivers  form  one 
of  the  greatest  charms  of  Maine,  and  attract  to  its  woodland  labyrinths 
thousands  of  visitors  every  summer. 

It  was  nearly  nine  hundred  years  ago  that  Maine  was  first  seen  by 
Christian  eyes,  when  the  mail-clad  Norse  sea-kings  sailed  along  its 
coast,  descending  from  their  icy  northern  harbors  to  seek  the  fabled 
joys  of  Vineland  the  Good.  Five  centuries  later,  when  the  Pope  still 
ruled  the  whole  Christian  world,  and  the  House  of  York  held  the  sover- 
eignty of  England,  fleets  of  fearless  Biscay  fishermen  visited  these 
shores  in  pursuit  of  their  calling,  keeping,  however,  well  out  in  the 
Gulf  of  Maine,  out  of  the  reach  of  the  grim  savages  who  haunted  the 
capes  and  islands.  In  1498  Cabot  sailed  along  the  coast  searching  for 
new  dominions;  and  his  track  was  followed  within  the  next  century  by 
Italian,  French,  Spanish,  Dutch,  and  English  explorers,  Gomez,  Gos- 
nold,  Champlain,  Bring,  De  Rut,  Verrazano,  and  others.  Early  in  the 
seventeenth  century  ephemeral  colonies  were  founded  along  the  coast, 
—  De  Monts's  Frenchmen  on  the  St.  Croix  River,  Popham's  Episco- 


4  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

paMans  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kennebec,  Vines's  traders  at  Saco,  Gorges's 
mctropoHtan  dignitaries  at  York,  the  French  Jesuits  at  Mount  Desert, 
the  Enghsh  fishermen  on  Monhegan.  Most  of  these  melted  away 
under  hostile  attacks,  or  from  stress  of  famine  and  sickness,  but 
new  and  larger  settlements  arose  at  many  other  points.  King  James  I. 
of  England  granted  the  region  to  the  Plymouth  Company  in  1620; 
and  two  years  later  this  corporation  conveyed  to  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges 
and  Captain  John  Mason  the  country  between  the  Merrimac  and  Ken- 
nebec Rivers,  of  which  Gorges  took  the  part  between  the  Piscataqua  and 
Kennebec.  For  over  fifty  years  this  vast  tract  was  governed  by  deputies 
of  the  Gorges  family,  who  finally  sold  it  to  Massachusetts,  in  1677,  for 
^^1,250.  The  country  between  the  Kennebec  and  Penobscot,  partly 
settled  under  authority  of  the  Plymouth  Company,  was  granted  by 
Charles  II.  to  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  York,  in  1664,  and  taken  in 
charge  by  Massachusetts  in  1686.  Five  years  later  the  region  betw^een 
the  Penobscot  and  St.  Croix  became  a  part  of  the  Province  of  Massa- 
chusetts, which  then  governed  the  entire  District  of  oNIaine,  and  con- 
tinued to  do  so  for  one  hundred  and  thirty  years.  The  name  Maixe 
was  derived  from  that  of  the  French  province  between  Normandy  and 
Anjou,  which  had  been  a  part  of  the  heritage  of  Henrietta  Maria, 
queen  of  Charles  II. 

But  in  all  this  granting  and  colonizing,  and  uprising  of  a  great 
State,  the  incoming  people  had  to  reckon  with  the  ancient  owners  of 
the  soil,  —  the  wild,  fierce  tribes  of  Indians,  weakened  indeed  by  wars  and 
pestilence,  but  still  numbering  thousands  of  grim  and  fearless  warriors, 
eagle-eyed  and  lion-hearted,  and  powerfully  aided  by  French  officers 
and  armaments.  For  nearly  eighty  years,  with  brief  intervals  of  peace, 
the  infant  settlements  were  scourged  by  the  pitiless  forays  of  the  red 
men,  whose  natural  hostility  was  intensified  by  the  untold  wrongs  which 
they  had  suffered.  It  was  a  war  of  extermination,  and  the  rattle  of 
the  rangers'  rifles,  pouring  death  into  the  wigwams  of  Pcquawket  and 
Norridgcwock,  was  answered  again  and  again  by  the  dreadful  war-whoop, 
as  swarms  of  red  warriors  overwhelmed  the  feeble  villages  of  the  coast 
and  massacred  their  people.  Thus  fell  Arrowsic,  Casco,  Black  Point, 
Dover,  Pcmaquid,  and  many  another  settlement,  the  flames  of  whose 
burning  Ut  up  the  lonely  shores.      Step  by  step  the  unfortunate  Indians 


Literary  Interest.  5 

were  driven  back  from  the  coast,  then  into  the  wilderness,  and  finally 
out  of  the  country  altogether,  and  down  into  the  friendly  St.  Law- 
rence valley.  The  fragments  of  the  Tarratine  tribe  were  suffered  to 
remain  as  wards  of  the  State,  and  their  descendants  now  dwell  along 
the  Penobscot  and  out  to  the  eastward. 

These  centuries  of  warfare  and  conflicts  of  races  have  made  every 
strategic  point  on  the  coast  historic ;  and  many  a  noble  promontory, 
beaten  by  the  sea  and  abandoned  by  man,  bears  the  faint  ruins  of 
ancient  villages  and  fortresses,  Indian,  Norse,  French,  Dutch,  or  Eng- 
lish, whose  very  names  are  now  almost  forgotten,  besides  those  elder 
prehistoric  remains  which  offer  such  tempting  themes  to  the  anti- 
quaries. If  the  legends  and  traditions  and  picturesque  events  of  this 
region  had  been  gathered,  and  embellished  and  worked  up  as  care- 
fully and  effectively  as  those  of  the  Rhine  and  Hudson  have  been, 
its  interest  would  be  very  much  greater,  Longfellow's  pathetic  song 
of  his  lost  youth  is  remembered  at  Portland,  and  his  "Morituri  Salu- 
tamus "  repeats  itself  in  the  sighing  of  the  Brunswick  pines.  At 
Norridgewock,  Whittier's  "  Mogg  Megone "  may  be  read ;  at  Harps- 
well,  his  "  Dead  Ship  of  Harpswell,"  and  farther  eastward,  his  ballad 
of  "  St.  John."  Castine  has  been  sung  by  both  Longfellow  and  Whit- 
tier.  Mrs.  Stowe's  "The  Pearl  of  Orr's  Island,"  and  other  novels, 
give  exquisite  word-paintings  of  the  ancient  hamlets  and  communi- 
ties of  the  coast.  Still  later,  Mr.  Howells  has  daintily  drawn  a  Maine 
hamlet  in  his  "The  Lady  of  the  Aroostook";  and  in  "A  Modern 
Instance"  has  portrayed  the  life  of  the  lumber-camps  and  the  remote 
inland  villages.  Scores  of  local  histories  have  preserved  traditions 
and  events  which  await  only  a  skilful  literary  touch  to  assume 
vigorous  life. 

In  the  year  1820  the  District  of  ]Maine  was  separated  from  Massa- 
chusetts, and  became  a  sovereign  State,  the  twenty-third  in  the  order 
of  seniority,  and  the  youngest  of  the  Atlantic  States,  except  Florida. 
Since  that  time,  in  spite  of  the  continual  drain  of  emigration  to  the 
West,  the  population  has  trebled,  and  the  valuation  has  risen  to  half 
a  billion  dollars.  Of  late  years  the  railway  system  has  been  extended 
and  perfected  in  many  directions,  until  it  includes  three  first-class  lines 
from  Portland  to  the  southward,  and  two  to  the  White  Mountains  and 


6  Siunmer  Days  Down  East. 

Canada,  besides  the  great  Maine  Central  line,  which  runs  out  to  Ban- 
gor and  the  Maritime  Provinces,  with  branches  to  the  Rangeley  region, 
along  the  upper  Kennebec,  to  the  quaint  marine  cities  of  Bath  and 
Belfast,  and  in  several  other  directions,  giving  easy  access  to  hundreds 
of  cities  and  towns.  This  great  and  complex  system  of  routes  is  under 
the  management  of  tried  and  efficient  officers,  President  George  E. 
B.  Jackson  being  the  guardian  of  its  financial  security,  while  General 
Manager  Payson  Tucker  prov-ides  carefully  for  the  safety  and  con- 
venience of  its  thronging  trains,  and  General  Passenger  Agent  F.  E. 
Boothby  arranges  ever-new  routes  for  travellers,  and  forms  schedules 
of  excursion  routes  in  great  variety.  Connecting  with  this  Briarean 
net-work  of  railways  is  a  fleet  of  scores  of  steamboats  plying  on  the 
rivers  and  bays,  and  along  the  many  lakes,  large  and  small,  which  are 
approached  by  the  iron  rails.  By  these  various  routes  of  travel  myriads 
of  travellers  are  comfortably  conveyed  every  season  to  their  destina- 
tions in  the  great  Northern  park  of  New  England. 

After  combining  under  a  single  powerful  management  the  various 
small  railroad  corporations  in  the  State  of  Maine,  the  officers  of  the 
Maine  Central  line  went  steadily  forward  with  the  work  of  improving 
the  condition  of  their  track  and  rolling-stock,  in  every  particular,  in 
order  to  give  the  new  route  its  proper  place  among  the  first-class  and 
efficient  railroads  of  America.  The  work  was  done  quietly  and  persist- 
ently, and  coincidently  the  managers  adopted  a  liberal  system  of  cater- 
ing for  the  great  army  of  summer  travel  which  yearly  invades  New 
England,  and  for  whose  pleasure  and  comfort  this  iron  avenue  among 
shadowy  forests  and  flashing  lakes,  and  along  the  margins  of  famous 
.rivers,  and  past  the  head  of  many  an  Atlantic  inlet,  seems  to  have  been 
specially  created.  In  spite  of  (or  because  of)  these  innovations  and 
expenditures,  Maine  Central  bonds,  which  formerly  lay  heavy  on  the 
market  at  far  below  par,  rose  steadily  to  a  hundred  cents  on  a  dollar, 
and  then  passed  upward  to  a  premium,  in  which  happy  direction  they  are 
still  moving.  It  is  a  triumph  of  intelligent,  enterprising,  and  conscien- 
tious management,  welding  a  number  of  unimportant  members  into  a 
powerful  and  imposing  combination,  continually  augmenting  its  strength 
and  influence  from  healthful  interior  growth. 

The    Maine    Central    officials    are    scrupulously    particular    about 


An  Aisthetic  Railroad.  7 

{\\e\r  personnel,  their  track,  and  their  rolHng-stock,  and  carefully  study 
the  financial  security,  the  safety,  and  all  other  problems  connected  with 
so  large  an  enterprise.  But  they  do  not  lose  sight  of  the  less  important 
(but  still  interesting)  questions  connected  with  the  minor  details  of 
management,  and  one  of  the  foremost  among  these  is  the  proper  care 
of  stations.  The  buildings  are  neatly  finished  and  painted,  and  kept 
with  military  neatness ;  and,  as  rapidly  as  possible,  new  stations  are 
being  erected  in  place  of  the  old  ones.  A  comprehensive  system  of 
landscape-gardening  has  been  adopted,  by  whose  operation  the  dry  and 
dusty  wastes,  encumbered  with  rubbish,  which  usually  surround  New- 
England  railroad  stations,  are  replaced  by  dainty  little  gardens,  pro- 
tected by  fences,  and  blushing  under  the  unaccustomed  blessing  of 
broad  beds  of  flowers  and  clumps  of  ornamental  shrubbery.  At  some 
of  the  larger  towns  miniature  parks  have  been  laid  out  around  the 
depot  buildings ;  and  the  traveller,  weary  of  the  heat  and  dust  of  a 
summer  day's  ride,  can  refresh  his  eyes  with  the  vivid  colors  of  nature's 
fairest  flowers,  and  the  plashing  of  cool  fountains,  and  the  artistic  group- 
ing of  verdant  lawns  and  shrubbery.  As  soon  as  freezing  weather  is 
over  an  annual  order  is  issued  to  have  the  company's  stations  and 
premises  and  other  surroundings  thoroughly  cleaned  ;  and  this  is  fol- 
lowed later  by  a  supplementary  order  with  special  reference  to  the 
flower-gardens  and  parks,  the  roses  and  geraniums,  and  other  strange 
corporation   afi'airs. 

The'preeminent  characteristic  of  the  Maine  Central  is  its  scenery 
of  lakes,  rivers,  and  bays,  which  gives  en  almost  continual  water  view  on 
one  side  or  the  other  to  travellers  bound  over  this  route.  Beginning 
with  Portland  Harbor  and  Fore  River,  and  ending  at  the  St.  Croix  River, 
on  the  remote  eastern  frontier,  the  line  continually  seeks  the  margins  of 
blue  waters,  winding  around  sinuous  bays,  rushing  across  the  heads  of 
silvery  beaches,  or  descending  to  the  long  expanses  of  inland  ponds. 
From  near  Brunswick  clear  up  to  Skowhegan,  a  distance  of  nearly 
seventy-five  miles,  the  route  lies  directly  on  the  bank  of  the  lordly  Ken- 
nebec, whose  clear  waters  flow  downward  beside,  oftentimes  bearing  the 
great  rafts  of  the  lumber  merchants,  or  the  tall  vessels  of  the  ice  com- 
panies, and  giving  opportunity  for  a  casual  survey  of  the  magnitude  of 
these   Maine  industries.       Here,  too,   are   several   interesting   old    river 


8  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

cities,  surrounded  with  opportunities  for  summer  pleasure,  and  inviting 
a  visit  from  the  leisurely  tourist.  Turn  to  the  northward,  up  the 
Androscoggin,  and  other  leagues  of  beautiful  river  scenery  open  before 
you;  or  go  on  toward  and  beyond  Bangor,  and  for  hours  ride  along  the 
Penobscot  and  Mattawamkeag,  with  a  ceaseless  variety  of  scenery  and 
incident  passing  on  the  water-side.  Elsewhere  there  is  a  perfect  rosary 
of  ponds  stretching  for  mile  after  mile  through  the  farming  country 
among  the  hills,  and  followed  by  the  iron  road,  which,  in  seeking  for 
easy  grades,  has  found  unusual  scenic  wealth. 

Through  such  scenes  runs  this  net-work  of  routes,  giving  access  on 
one  side  to  the  sea-shore,  and  on  the  other  to  the  forest,  and  all  that  in 
them  is,  —  the  beaches  and  islands,  yachts  and  red  parasols,  of  the  one^ 
and  the  glens  and  trout-pools,  canoes  and  fairest  rural  maids,  of  the  inland 
counties.  For  Maine  is  now  peculiarly  celebrated  as  a  land  of  summer  joys, 
where  thousands  of  people  who  have  had  enough  of  the  more  artificial 
attractions  of  the  older  watering-places  come  to  these  scenes  near  to 
nature's  heart,  to  enjoy  repose  and  temporary  change  of  life  in  a  free 
and  delightful  unconventionality.  Here  they  can  find  variety  enough 
to  suit  every  taste,  —  the  wildest  of  sea-coasts,  whose  dark  rocky  points 
are  fringed  with  perpetual  surf  ;  placid  and  tranquil  river  scenes,  and 
lowland  lakes  shining  amid  the  open  pastures  ;  mineral  springs,  with 
huge  hotels  and  well-advertised  modern  fountains  of  life ;  scores  of 
points  of  deep  interest  to  students  of  history  and  antiquity,  with  ample 
opportunities  for  research  ;  harbors  where  the  handsomest  and  fleetest 
yachts  gather,  near  Newport-like  summer  cities  ;  vast  inland  solitudes  of 
forest  and  fell,  the  chosen  home  of  game,  great  and  small;  far-out-of- 
thc-way  lakes,  the  most  favorite  resorts  of  gentlemen-fishermen  ;  and 
stately  mountains,  affording  very  impressive  forms  of  highland  scenery. 
In  such  a  summer  paradise  one  can  hardly  go  amiss. 


PORTLAND. 


Q-^^OR  all  purposes  of  tourist  travel  Portland  is  the  threshold  of 
Maine.  To  be  sure,  there  are  many  points  of  interest  in  the 
-/// J»if ^i^^'*^^^^  Pine-Tree  State  before  Portland  is  reached,  —  the  beaches  of 
(vX-^.;^^  York,  Wells,  Kennebunkport,  Biddeford,  Old  Orchard,  and 
c^'^  Scarborough;    the  high  hills  of  xAgamenticus,  Lake  Sebago, 

^j  P'ryeburg,  and  Bethel  ;  but  the  five  great  railroads  passing 
these  localities  all  converge  at  Portland  into  a  great  strategic  centre, 
beyond  which  lie  the  long  lines  of  maritime  peninsulas  and  famous 
islands,  the  populous  tide-water  counties,  the  inland  lakes,  and  the 
vast  wilderness  of  Maine.  From  the  tower  on  Munjoy's  Hill  you  can 
see  on  one  side  the  long  serrated  line  of  the  White  Mountains,  and  on 
the  other  a  wide  sweep  of  the  open  sea,  extending  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Kennebec.  It  is  a  city  that  is  set  on  the  hills,  and  cannot  be  hid.  On 
every  side  there  are  beautiful  excursion-routes,  by  road,  railway,  or  sea, 
to  the  beach  and  island  resorts  within  a  half-hour's  sail  or  ride,  or  out 
beyond  this  range,  in  every  direction,  to  the  well-known  lake  and  moun- 
tain hotels  and  villages  within  two  or  three  hours'  journey.  Many 
travellers  bound  for  points  farther  to  the  eastward  find  it  convenient 
and  pleasant  to  rest  in  Portland  for  a  day  or  two,  enjoying  very  com- 
fortable accommodations  at  the  magnific-e-nt  Falmouth  Hotel,  and 
the  other  large  public  houses  near  by. 

It  is  a  city  of  about  33,000  inhabitants,  and  a  valuation  of  above 
$30,000,000,  with  five  or  six  daily  newspapers,  half-a-dozen  banks,  two 
savings-banks  with  deposits  of  nearly  $8,000,000,  twenty  churches,  a 

(9) 


lo  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

large  and  flourishing  shipping  trade,  and  a  considerable  number  of 
profitable  manufactures.  The  people  are  celebrated  for  their  culture 
and  urbanity,  and  have  included  among  their  social  circles  litteratejirs 
like  N.  P.  Willis  and  his  gifted  sister,  Fanny  Fern,  Seba  Smith  and 
Elizabeth  Oakes  Smith,  Henry  W.  Longfellow,  John  Neal,  Mrs.  Ann 
S.  Stephens  and  Mrs.  Abba  Goold  Woolson,  Cyrus  A.  Bartol  and 
Thomas  Hill,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Akers  Allen,  Grenville  Mellen,  Elijah 
Kellogg,  Edward  S.  Morse,  and  many  other  famous  names.  Tilton, 
Beckett,  Harry  Brown,  and  a  dozen  other  well-known  artists  have 
called  this  their  home.  Alden  and  the  Preblcs  are  among  the  cele- 
brated naval  heroes  of  Portland  ;  and  among  its  statesmen  were  the 
Fessendens,  the  Shepleys,  Horatio  King,  and  Theophilus  Parsons. 
The  Episcopalians  and  the  Roman  Catholics  have  cathedrals  here, — 
one  cosy  and  aristocratic,  the  ether  spacious  and  imposing ;  and  other 
religious  fraternities  have  buildings  of  considerable  importance. 

It  was  away  back  in  1632  that  a  small  trading-post  was  founded 
on  the  site  of  Portland,  the  ground  having  been  leased  to  the  merchants, 
by  Gorges,  for  two  thousand  years.  The  Indians  called  the  locality 
Machigoiinc;  but  the  new-comers  bestowed  upon  it,  "  now  and  forever 
henceforth,"  the  extraordinary  name  of  Stogwnmor.  When  King 
Philip's  War  broke  out,  in  1675,  the  Indians  made  a  fierce  foray  into 
the  little  town,  and  killed  or  captured  thirty-four  persons.  To  prevent 
a  repetition  of  this  massacre  the  strong  defences  of  Fort  Eoyal  were 
constructed,  and  under  its  protection  the  village  soon  grew  to  a  popu- 
lation of  six  hundred  souls.  It  was  in  1688  that  an  army  of  four  hun- 
dred Indian  warriors  attempted  to  over-run  the  town,  and  would  have 
done  it,  but  that  Major  Church  and  his  veteran  Massachusetts  volun- 
teers unexpectedly  sailed  into  the  bay,  and  landed  on  the  strand,  after 
which  they  pitched  into  the  enemy  back  of  the  town,  and  drove 
them  into  full  retreat,  after  a  long  and  Homeric  contest.  A  year  later 
the  survivors  returned  with  new  hordes  of  forest  braves,  and  several 
skilful  French  officers  to  direct  their  attack.  There  was  a  siege  of 
several  days,  a  hot  sortie  and  fight,  and  then  Fort  Loyal  surrendered, 
with  hardly  a  whole  skin  left  in  its  garrison.  That  was  an  end  of  the 
colonial  town,  and  twenty-five  years  passed  away,  while  only  birds  and 
wild  beasts  dwelt  amon<i  the  deserted  ruins  of  fort  and  houses.     After 


Portland.  *  1 1 

the  Peace  of  Utrecht,  however,  a  number  of  sturdy  old  veterans  from 
the  disbanded  garrisons  along  the  coast  made  their  home  here,  and 
when  the  Indians  once  more  came  down  to  pay  their  compliments 
they  found  a  line  of  fortified  streets,  and  strong  guards  of  men-at-arms 
at  every  point.  The  town  bore  the  name  of  Falmouth,  and  had  a  flour- 
ishing commerce  with  Britain  and  the  West  Indies,  and  a  population  of 
two  thousand,  on  that  bright  October  morning  of  1775  when  Captain 
Mowatt's  British  fleet  sailed  up  the  harbor  and  poured  upon  it  for 
eight  hours  an  incessant  and  destructive  bombardment.  The  houses 
that  escaped  from  the  hot  shot  were  burned  by  landing  parties  of  red- 
coats;  and  the  town  once  more  sank  down  in  ruins.  But  the  natural 
advantages  of  the  locality  are  so  great  that  new  cities  would  rise  on 
this  site  yearl}^  if  they  could  be  so  often  destroyed,  and  so,  in  brief 
space  of  time,  the  ruins  were  removed,  and  another  Falmouth  looked 
out  over  the  blue  waves. 

The  chief  event  of  modern  times  in  Portland  was  the  great  fire  of 
1866,  which  was  caused  by  a  fire-cracker,  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  and 
destroyed  nearly  all  the  business  quarter  of  the  city,  burning  with  fatal 
steadiness  for  sixteen  hours,  and  inflicting  a  damage  of  about  ten 
million  dollars.  The  more  densely-built  district  is  therefore  entirely 
modern,  and  includes  many  handsome  and  imposing  buildings,  such 
as  the  white  marble  Greek  temple  occupied  by  the  Post  Office,  the 
massive  granite  Custom  House,  and  the  huge  and  high-domed  City 
Hall,  of  Nova-Scotia  sandstone,  and  containing  a  large  public  library. 
The  fire  spared  the  ancient  house  at  the  corner  of  Hancock  and  Fore 
streets,  in  which  Henry  W.  Longfellow  was  born,  and  halted  before 
reaching  the  beautiful  and  aristocratic  streets  of  Bramhall's  Hill,  the 
West  End  of  Portland,  where  stand  lines  of  stately  old  mansions,  sug- 
gestive of  the  old  noblesse  of  ship-owners  and  retired  sea-captains, 
surrounded  by  gardens,  and  bordered  by  double  rows  of  tall  and 
ancient  trees.  The  fairest  flowers  still  adorn  these  massive  archi- 
tectural relics,  for  the  beautiful  daughters  of  the  three  eastern  "ports" 
—  Newburyport,  Portsmouth,  and  Portland  —  have  often  been  charac- 
terized as  the  pride  of  New  England. 

The  city  has  a  noble  site  on  a  narrow  peninsula  at  one  end  of 
Casco    Bay,  and   rises   along    the   slopes    and    over   the   crests    of  two 


1 2  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

symmetrical  hills,  one  hundred  and  sixty  and  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  feet  above  the  water-level.  The  appearance  of  these  populous 
ridges,  as  seen  from  the  harbor,  or  from  the  lowland  suburbs  on  the 
landward  side,  is  very  imposing,  and  gives  a  worthy  first  impression  of 
the  bright,  enterprising,  and  handsome  metropolis  of  Maine. 

It  is  but  a  half-hour's  ride  by  rail  to  Old  Orchard  Beach,  one  of 
the  most  famous  sea-shore  resorts  of  New  England,  with  vast  and 
magnificent  hotels,  frequented  by  the  best  people  of  the  adjacent  States, 
and  by  many  wealthy  families  from  Upper  Canada.  The  beach  is  nine 
miles  long,  a  vast  curving  strand,  sloping  very  gently  downward,  and 
affording  a  royal  driveway  at  low  tide ;  while  a  little  way  back  are  very 
lovely  woods,  amid  which  various  societies  of  religious  persons  enjoy 
the  camp-meeting  season.  Even  nearer  Portland  are  Scarboro'  Beach, 
Cape  Elizabeth,  and  other  desirable  resorts ;  and  Cushing's  Island,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  is  being  beautified  by  the  most  skilful  land- 
scape-gardening, and  will  soon  become  an  exquisite  marine  park, 
adorned  with  many  summer-cottages. 


EASTWARD   FROM   PORTLAND. 


THE    KENNEBEC-RIVER    ROUTE. 


HE  entrance  to  interior  Maine  and  the  wonderful  Eastern 
^^  seaboard  leads  through  the  busy  and  crowded  terminal 
station  of  the  Maine  Central  Railroad  at  Portland,  the  begin- 
'^^il  ning  of  a  varied  group  of  unrivalled  summer  routes,  pro- 
vided with  every  convenience  for  comfortable  travel,  and  every 
inducement  for  leisurely  exploration.  Equipped  with  veracious 
guide-books,  and  not-too-philosophical  novels,  bright  newspapers,  and 
other  comforts,  the  traveller  takes  his  place  in  the  luxurious  cars, 
secure  of  an  easy  and  interesting  journey,  and  an  early  arrival  at  his 
chosen  summer  paradise  by  lake  or  sea,  in  the  deep  forest  or  among 
the  ancient  lowland  villages. 

Running  out  of  the  suburbs  of  Portland,  on  the  left  one  of  the 
largest  ice-houses  in  the  world  is  seen  across  the  river.  At  the  junction 
station  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  crosses  the  line  ;  and  farther  out 
the  Portland  &  Rochester  Railroad  is  intersected'.  The  line  swings 
around  the  base  of  Bramhall  Hill,  the  aristocratic  quarter  of  Portland, 
covered  with  imposing  villas  and  public  buildings,  and  rising  from  the 
plain  with  a  picturesque  abruptness  which  almost  suggests  Quebec 
Woodford's  Corner  is  a  pretty  suburban  village,  —  a  sort  of  Eastern 
Longwood,  —  with  the  homes  of  many  Portland  merchants  and  clerks, 
along  the  highlands  and  towards  the  cove, looking  out  on  the  bay  be- 
yond.    On  the  left,  long  visible  fiom  the  train,  rises  Blackstrap  Hill,  a 

(13) 


14  Stcmmer  Days  Down  East. 

famous  landmark  along  the  coast,  with  a  tall  tower  of  the  United 
States  Coast  Survey  marking  its  loftiest  point.  It  reaches  a  height  of 
five  hundred  and  one  feet,  and  commands  a  very  extensive  view. 

Falmouth  station  is  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Falmouth,  on  the  shore, 
five  miles  from  Portland;  and  all  along  the  Forcside  rise  summer 
cottages  and  boarding-houses,  favored  by  families  from  Upper  Canada. 
Off-shore  are  the  thronging  islands  of  Casco  Bay,  "  the  fairest  dimple 
on  Ocean's  cheek,"  stretching  along  the  picturesque  coasts  to  the  east- 
ward, and  full  of  infinite  variety  and  perennial  charm.  As  early  as  the 
year  1822  Capt.  Porter  ran  the  steamer  Kennebec  among  these  islands, 
and  to  Yarmouth.  It  was  an  old  flat-bottomed  boat,  with  a  battered 
engine,  and  the  people  about  the  bay  called  it  the  Horned  Hog. 

Crossing  the  Presumpscot  River,  the  outlet  of  Sebago  Lake,  on 
an  iron  bridge  of  a  single  span,  the  little  station  of  West  Falmouth  is 
soon  reached.  On  the  shores  of  Casco  Bay,  to  the  eastward,  is  the 
long-drawn-out  settlement  of  Falmouth  Foreside,  a  favorite  suburb  of 
Portland,  and  lined  with  substantial  old  farm-houses  and  the  handsome 
villas  of  Portland  gentlemen.  Here  also  dwell  many  retired  sea-cap- 
tains, anchored  among  the  orchards  and  cornfields,  but  keeping  a 
weather-eye  open,  through  their  eastern  windows,  over  the  bright  waves 
of  the  bay.  This  region  was  settled  as  early  as  1632,  and  suffered 
terribly  from  Indian  attacks.  In  1703  Governor  Dudley,  of  Massachu- 
setts, came  here  in  regal  state,  and  held  a  council  with  Bomasecn  and 
ten  other  powerful  sagamores,  accompanied  by  two  hundred  and  fifty 
well-armed  and  richly-arrayed  Indian  warriors.  A  few  weeks  later 
Queen  Anne's  War  broke  out,  and  the  little  fort  here  was  besieged  by 
five  hundred  French  soldiers  and  Indian  braves,  under  M.  Beaubassin 
and  the  great  chief  Assacombuit,  whom  Louis  XIV.  had  knighted  at 
Versailles.  After  six  days  of  battle,  and  when  the  enemy  was  on  the 
eve  of  winning  the  fort,  a  Provincial  war-vessel  came  to  the  relief,  and 
drove  away  the  hostile  league  with  her  artillery.  Everything  outside 
the  fort  —  farms,  cattle,  buildings  —  all  was  destroyed  by  the  pitiless 
enemy. 

At  Cumberland  station,  near  the  ancient  Congregational  village  of 
Cumberland  Centre,  the  railroad  forks,  dividing  into  what  are  called 
the  upper  and  lower,  or  eastern  and  western,  or  main  and  back  routes, 


Brunswick  and  Harpswell.  1 5 

one  of  them  running  through  Lewiston,  Winthrop,  and  Belgrade,  and 
the  other  through  Brunswick  and  Augusta.  These  two  routes  unite  at 
Waterville,  about  seventy  miles  from  Cumberland.  The  Augusta  line 
ruub  east  from  Cumberland  and  crosses  the  Royal  River,  after  which  it 
intersects  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  at  Yarmouth  Junction.  This  region 
was  settled,  about  the  time  Boston  was,  by  John  Phillips,  a  Welshman  ; 
and  in  1688,  after  some  gallant  fighting,  the  entire  population  fled 
from  the  French  and  Indian  allies,  who  totally  destroyed  the  place.  As 
late  as  the  year  1746  these  vengeful  raiders  made  determined  attacks 
on  the  local  forts. 

The  next  station  is  Freeport,  near  the  charming  old  village  of 
Freeport  Corner,  in  one  of  the  Casco-Bay  towns,  once  famous  for  its 
ship-building,  but  now  sleeping  soundly  among  its  immemorial  elms, 
amid  a  country  like  paradise.  Close  by,  on  the  south,  are  the  mazy 
islands  and  labyrinthine  straits  of  the  bay,  affording  scenery  of  rare  and 
unusual  attractiveness.  In  this  seashore  town  Dr.  Cyrus  A.  Bartol  was 
born,  away  back  in  181 3. 

Beyond  Freeport  the  line  passes  Oak  Hill  on  the  right,  and  enters 
the  long,  sandy  plain  of  Brunswick,  between  rich  forests  of  Norway 
pine. 


BRUNSWICK   AND    HARPSWELL. 

Brunswick  rests  quietly  on  the  plain  at  the  confluence  of  the 
Androscoggin  and  Kennebec  Rivers,  around  the  noble  falls  on  the 
former  river,  where  the  rushing  waters  rage  downward  through  a  fret- 
ting environment  of  granite  ledges,  falling  forty-one  feet  in  a  third  of  a 
mile.  Half  a  century  ago  there  were  thirty  saw-mills  here,  and  the 
Narrows  below  were  lined  with  ship-yards  ;  but  now  the  chief  manufact- 
uring is  done  by  the  Cabot  Company,  whose  cotton  mills  employ  500 
hands.  The  town  has  nearly  6,000  inhabitants,  with  eight  churches, 
twenty-five  schools,  and  two  newspapers.  It  is  even  more  interesting 
to  know  that  the  scenery  in  the  adjacent  country-side  is  very  pretty,  in- 
somuch that  the  veracious  "  Gazetteer "  claims  that  it    "affords    more 


1 6  Szunmer  Days  Down  East. 

pleasing  drives  than  any  other  town  in  New  England."  Let  Newport 
and  Stockbridge,  North  Conway  and  Stowe,  be  magnanimous.  At  any 
rate  Brunswick  has  its  full  share  of  summer  visitors,  pleased  with  the 
quiet  refinement  of  an  old  college  town,  and  delighting  in  the  beautiful 
roads  which  ramble  out  over  these  dry  and  sandy  plains,  among  the 
pine  forests  and  the  deep-cut  bays.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  who 
lived  here  for  many  years,  speaks  rapturously  of  the  adjacent  sea,  say- 
ing: "The  site  of  Brunswick  is  a  sandy  plain,  on  which  the  college 
buildings  seem  to  have  been  dropped  for  the  good  old  Yankee  economic 
reason  of  using  land  for  public  buildings  that  could  not  be  used  for 
anything  else.  The  soil  was  a  fathomless  depth  of  dry,  sharp,  barren 
sand,  out  of  whose  bosom  nothing  could  emerge  without  superhuman 
efforts  at  cultivation.  But  these  sandy  plains,  these  pine  forests,  were 
neighbors  to  the  great,  lively,  musical,  blue  ocean,  whose  life-giving 
presence  made  itself  seen,  heard,  and  felt  every  hour  of  the  day  and 
night.  The  beautiful  peculiarity  of  the  Maine  coast,  where  the  sea 
interpenetrates  the  land  in  picturesque  fiords  and  lakes,  brought  a 
constant  romantic  element  into  the  landscape.  White-winged  ships 
from  India  or  China  came  gliding  into  the  lonely  solitude  of  forest 
recesses,  bringing  news  froni  strange  lands  and  tidings  of  wild 
adventure  into  secluded  farm-houses  that  for  the  most  part  seemed  to 
be  dreaming  in  woodland  solitude." 

Bowdoin  College  stands  on  an  elevated  plain,  not  far  from  the 
railway  station,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  beautiful  and  sombre  pine  groves. 
It  is  one  of  the  foremost  colleges  of  New  England,  bearing  date  of 
1794,  and  named  in  honor  of  James  Bowdoin,  Governor  of  Massachu- 
setts at  that  time.  The  State  of  Massachusetts  endowed  it  with  five 
townships  in  Piscataquis  County,  and  Governor  Bowdoin's  son  gave 
it  other  rich  grants  of  land,  with  large  collections  of  minerals,  philo- 
sophical apparatus,  paintings,  and  books.  So  the  descendants  of  old 
Pierre  Baudoin,  the  Huguenot  gentleman-emigrant  from  La  Rochclle, 
enriched  the  college  which  honors  their  name.  There  are  here  upwartls 
of  one  hundred  and  thirty  paintings,  some  of  which  are  attributed  to 
Teniers,  Rubens,  Van  Dyck,  Poussin,  Hogarth,  and  other  famous 
masters.  This  pretentious  and  really  interesting  gallciy,  together 
with  the  handsomely  frescoed  chapel,  is  in  a  conspicuous  twin-spired 


Brunswick  and  Harpswell.  1 7 

building,  in  the  line  of  college  halls.  Memorial  Hall  was  built  in  1868, 
to  commemorate  the  valor  of  the  Bowdoin  boys  who  died  in  the  Seces- 
sion War.  The  funds  gave  out,  however,  when  the  walls  and  roof  were 
finished,  and  the  great  shell  of  a  building  served  as  a  gymnasium  until 
1882,  when  Valeria  Stone,  of  Maiden,  gave  $25,000  for  its  completion. 
It  is  a  handsome  Gothic  building  of  granite,  about  one  hundred  feet 
long,  and  mainly  occupied  by  a  large  and  richly-decorated  hall, 
abounding  in  frescoes,  brasses,  and  stained  windows. 

Bowdoin  is  now  highly  prosperous,  and  has  nearly  two  hundred 
and  fifty  students  in  its  academical  and  medical  schools.  The  library 
contains  nearly  40,000  volumes,  ancient  and  modern,  with  Assyrian 
sculptures,  old  English  furniture,  and  a  fine  collection  of  statuary.  On 
the  outer  walls  hang  the  class  ivies,  —  planted  in  high  hilarity,  and 
beheld  in  later  years  with  grave  solemnity.  Cleaveland  Hall  honors 
the  name  of  the  venerable  Prof.  Parker  Cleaveland,  and  enshrines 
myriads  of  minerals  and  other  dusty  specimens  in  natural  history,  the 
dry  and  inevitable  concomitants  of  the  higher  education. 

The  President's  house  is  now  occupied    by    President  Joshua  L. 

Chamberlain,  a  division  commander  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  (and 

six  times  wounded),  and  for  four  years  Governor  of  Maine.     About 

fifty  years  ago  Longfellow  brought  to  this  house  his  young  bride,  and 

dwelt  here  with  her  in  great  peace.     The  two  rooms  over  the  library 

were  the   peculiar   property    of  the    poet,  and    here  still  remains  the 

ancient  fireplace  referred  to  in  his    lines:  — 

"  Shadows  of  the  fitful  firelight 
Dance  upon  the  parlor  wall." 

In  1875,  in  his  celebrated  poem  of  Morituri  Sahctamns,  which  he 
delivered  at  Brunswick,  he  thus  spoke  :  — 

"  O  ye  familiar  scenes,  — ye  groves  of  pine, 
That  once  were  mine,  and  are  no  longer  mine,  — 
Thou  river,  Avidening  through  the  meadows  green 
To  the  vast  sea,  so  near  and  yet  unseen,  — 
Ye  halls,  in  whose  seclusion  and  repose 
Phantoms  of  fame,  like  exhalations,  rose 
And  vanished,  — we  who  are  about  to  die 
Salute  you;  earth,  and  air,  and  sea,  and  sky. 
And  the  imperial  sun  that  scatters  down 
His  sovereign  splendors  upon  grove  and  town." 


1 8  Siinirner  Days  Down  East, 

In  one  single  class,  that  of  1825,  Bowdoin  gave  enough  notables  to 
the  world  to  tenfold  warrant  its  existence.  In  this  galaxy  were 
Congressmen  Cilley,  Benson,  and  Sawtelle ;  United-States  Senator 
Bradbury;  Cheever,  Greenleaf,  and  Shepley,  the  divines;  Commodore 
Bridge;  Abbot,  the  historian,  Longfellow,  and  Hawthorne.  The  last- 
named  gives  a  pleasant  little  picture  of  their  life  "at  a  country  college, — 
gathering  blueberries  in  study-hours  under  those  tall,  academic  pines,  or 
watching  the  great  logs  as  they  tumbled  along  the  current  of  the 
Androscoggin;  or  shooting  pigeons  and  gray  squirrels  in  the  woods,  cr 
bat-fowling  in  the  summer  twilight,  or  catching  trout  in  that  shadowy 
little  stream,  which,  I  suppose,  is  still  wandering  riverward  through  the 
forest."  The  sylvan  haunt  of  trout  is  now  known  as  Hawthorne  Brook. 
As  General  Chamberlain  recently  said,  Bowdoin  has  given  to  the  repubhc 
a  president,  twenty-two  senators  and  representatives  in  Congress, 
fourteen  judges  of  high  courts,  nine  governors  of  States,  and  eighteen 
college  presidents. 

Mere  Point,  perhaps  named  Pointe  de  la  Mer  by  ancient  French 
settlers,  or  else  deriving  its  title  from  John  Mare,  one  of  its  earliest 
settlers,  is  a  very  picturesque  peninsula  running  down  into  Maquoit  and 
Casco  Bays,  and  recently  attaining  notice  as  a  summer  resort. 

In  ancient  times  the  Indians  called  the  Brunswick  region  Pcjcpscot^ 
which  means  "Where  Angry  Waters  Gush,"  or,  as  others  say  "Crooked, 
like  a  running  snake."  The  Council  of  Plymouth  laid  claim  to  the  do- 
main, and  under  their  patent  the  adventurous  Thomas  Purchas  took  pos- 
session before  1628,  but  placed  himself  under  the  protection  of  Winthrop 
as  soon  as  Massachusetts  was  founded.  Purchas  married  the  cousin  of 
Sir  Christopher  Gardiner,  the  Knight  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  who  was 
banished  from  Boston,  but  afterwards  returned  to  Pcjepscot,  where  he 
dwelt  with  his  kinsman,  and  plotted  vengeance  on  the  Puritans.  But 
Purchas  was  too  busy  with  his  salmon  and  sturgeon  fisheries,  and  in 
keeping  the  Indians  away  from  his  little  stone  castle,  to  help  out  the 
schemes  of  his  knightly  guest.  Richard  Wharton,  a  Boston  merchant, 
afterwards  bought  the  domain  from  Purchas's  heirs,  and  got  also  (in 
1684)  a  quitclaim  of  the  same  region  from  Worumbo  and  other  Indian 
chiefs  ;  and  from  him  it  passed  into  the  hands  of  a  party  of  Boston  specu- 
lators, calling  themselves  the  Pejepscot  Proprietors,  from  whom   (and 


Brunswick  and  Harp  swell.  19 

from  Gen.  Waldo,  who  bought  out  a  small  reserve  held  by  the  Purchas 
heirs)  the  present  titles  are  derived.  In  ancient  times  this  locality 
witnessed  many  a  murderous  attack  and  dreary  siege.  The  Indians 
destroyed  the  colony  in  1676,  and  again  in  1690,  —  the  fort  erected  in 
1688  by  Sir  Edmund  Andros  failing  to  protect  the  village.  Fort 
Andros  was  occupied  by  the  savages,  and  then  wrested  from  them  by 
expeditions  of  Massachusetts  militia.  In  1715  Fort  George  was  erected 
to  protect  the  town,  but  it  served  little  purpose  a  few  years  later,  during 
Lovewell's  War,  when  the  vengeful  red  men  a  third  time  laid  the  village 
in  ashes  in  retaliation  for  the  attack  on  Norridgewock.  In  1727  the 
locality  was  once  more  reoccupied  by  the  indomitable  colonists,  and 
the  town  which  they  founded  still  endures.  The  last  hostile  foray  of 
the  Indians  occurred  in  1757;  and  one  of  their  most  redoubtable  war- 
chiefs,  Sabattis,  visited  Brunswick  early  in  the  present  century  to  see 
the  fields  over  which  he  had  fought  so  long  before.  Besides  the  forts, 
the  ancient  settlement  was  defended  by  a  dozen  thick-walled  and  loop- 
holed  garrison-houses,  all  of  which  have  long  since  disappeared.  The 
oldest  building  now  standing  is  the  Robert  Thompson  house,  near 
Cook's  Corner,  a  massive  wainscoted  structure  dating  from  about  the 
year  1735.  The  Hinkley  house  (now  Weston's)  was  built  before  1770, 
and  there  are  several  others  of  equal  antiquity,  the  most  interesting  of 
which  are  the  Old  Red  House,  two  miles  beyond  Topsham,  the  Horace 
Toothaker  house  (built  in  1757),  on  Harpswell  Neck,  and  the  massive 
gambrel-roofed  house  on  Orr's  Island,  built  by  Joseph  Orr  in  1756. 

In  the  old  days  bears  abounded  in  this  region,  and  wolves  were  so 
numerous  that  their  bowlings  made  the  night  hideous,  and  many  a 
lonely  pioneer  was  chased  into  his  hut  by  them.  Foxes  and  squirrels, 
rabbits,  minks,  and  muskrats  are  plentiful,  and  within  twenty-five  years 
deer  and  caribou  have  been  seen  about  Brunswick. 

The  beautiful  town  of  Harpswell  lies  to  the  southward,  with  its 
wonderful  peninsulas  and  islands,  embalmed  in  the  best  literature  of 
New  England.  Harriet  Beecher  Stovve  says  that  the  scenery  here  is  of 
more  varied  and  singular  beauty  than  can  ordinarily  be  found  on  the 
shores  of  any  land  whatever  ...  A  constant  succession  of  pictures, 
whose  wild  and  solitary  beauty  entirely  distances  all  power  of  descrip- 
tion.    The  magnificence  of  the  evergreen  forests,  the  rich  intermingling 


20  Swnvier  Days  Dotvn  East. 

ever  and  anon  of  groves  of  birch,  beech,  and  oak,  in  picturesque  knots 
and  tufts,  as  if  set  for  effect  by  some  skilful  landscape  gardener,  pro- 
duce a  sort  of  strange,  dreamy  wonder;  while  the  sea,  breaking  forth 
on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left  of  the  road,  into  the  most  romantic 
glimpses,  seems  to  flash  and  glitter  like  some  strange  gem  which  every 
moment  shows  itself  through  the  framework  of  a  new  setting."  The. 
scene  of  "  The  Pearl  of  Orr's  Island,"  Mrs.  Stowe's  best  novel,  is  laid 
on  one  of  the  Harpswell  islands;  and  the  "Elm  Island"  of  Elijah 
Kellogg's  stories  is  Ragged  Island,  which  lies  out  in  the  ocean,  off  Harps- 
well.  Whittier's  weird  poem  of  "The  Dead  Ship  of  Harpswell  "  is 
already  classic :  — 

"  From  gray  sea-fog,  from  icy  drift, 
From  peril,  and  from  pain, 
The  home-bound  fisher  greets  thy  lights, 
O  hundred-harbored  Maine  !  " 

Stages  run  from  Brunswick  down  the  peninsula,  and  past  many 
points  where  summer  visitors  throng,  attracted  by  the  quaint  beauty  and 
romantic  charm  of  this  archipelago  town.  The  peninsula  is  twelve 
miles  long  and  about  a  mile  wide.  Eight  miles  from  Brunswick,  be- 
yond the  broad  pine  plains,  is  North  Harpswell ;  and  five  miles  beyond 
is  West  Harpswell,  with  its  two  churches.  Two  miles  farther  out  rise 
the  fishermen's  cottages  and  summer-hotels,  on  the  point,  in  full  view 
of  the  sea.  Three  hundred  people  live  on  Orr's  Island  (three  miles  by 
one  in  area),  a  mile  from  the  shore,  and  joined  to  Great  Island  by  a 
rickety  bridge.  Twenty  years  ago,  the  gathering  of  clams  was  a  great  in- 
dustry at  Harpswell,  and  2,500  barrels  have  been  sent  hence  in  a  single 
year.  There  are  now  half-a-dozen  large  dealers  in  fish  here,  sending  off 
about  20,000  quintals  yearly. 

There  are  many  old  houses  hereabouts,  and  older  traditions,  which 
even  the  great  thousand-page  "  History  of  Brunswick,  Topsham,  and 
Harpswell,"  published  in  1878,  has  failed  to  record.  During  the  Revo- 
lution a  picturesque  marine  guerilla  warfare  was  carried  on  among  the 
islands,  between  Tory,  Provincial,  and  British  boats  and  the  local  min- 
ute-men. In  1775  the  enemy  was  beaten  off  in  an  attack  on  Condy's 
Harbor,  by  antique  wall-pieces  and  swivels,  handled  by  the  Harpswell 
militia. 


Top  sham,  Bowdoinham,  and  Richmond.  2 1 

A  branch  line  of  railway  extends  from  Brunswick  9  miles  eastward  to 
Bath,  and  another  line  runs  6}i  miles  northward  to  Farmington,  passing 
through  Leeds  and  Livermore,  and  connecting  for  Lewiston.  These 
routes  are  described  farther  on.      (See  the  Index.) 


TOPSHAM,  BOWDOINHAM,  AND  RICHMOND. 

The  eastern-bound  trains  cross  the  Androscoggin  River  at  Bruns- 
wick, and  stop  at  the  sister  village  of  Topsham,  near  the  great  falls, 
and  delighting  in  factories.  The  early  history  of  this  peaceful  town 
was  dark  with  terrible  tragedies,  for  the  first  three  families  of  settlers 
were  massacred  by  the  Indians.  One  family,  living  at  Fulton's  Point, 
was  destroyed  while  its  head  was  out  in  search  of  provisions,  and  when 
he  returned  to  the  ashes  of  his  home  all  was  lost.  Gyles  and  his  wife, 
while  harvesting  corn  in  their  field,  fell  under  the  shot  of  concealed 
savages,  and  their  children  were  led  into  captivity.  But  these  victims 
of  the  heathen  were  succeeded  by  a  colony  of  grim  Scotch-Irishmen,  — 
Presbyterians  in  creed,  and  heroes  in  heart,  —  and  the  savages,  mis- 
liking  these  sturdy  G^lic  men,  drew  back  into  the  northern  woods. 

The  train  runs  northward  through  the  long  and  level  township  of 
Bowdoinham,  which  was  granted  by  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges  to  Sir 
Richard  Edgecomb,  of  Mount  Edgecomb,  in  1637.  But  the  Bowdoins 
of  Boston  secured  a  grant  of  the  domain  from  the  Plymouth  proprie- 
tors, and  then  bought  the  land  from  Abagadusset,  the  Indian  chieftain 
of  this  region,  whose  royal  lodge  stood  on  the  river-swept  point  which 
still  bears  his  name.  When  the  conflicting  Edgecomb  and  Bowdoin 
claims  were  laid  before  the  courts,  about  the  year  1760, 'the  latter  won 
the  day,  and  the  town  took  the  name  of  its  patrician  proprietors.  On 
the  east  lies  the  great  lake-like  expanse  at  the  junction  of  the  Andros- 
coggin and  Kennebec  Rivers,  known  as  Merry-meeting  Bay,  and,  in  ages 
long  gone  by,  famous  for  the  massacres  along  its  shores,  perpetrated  by 
hostile  Indian  bands,  when  the  pioneer  families  of  white  settlers  were 
bloodily    exterminated.      After    Fort    Richmond's    battlements    gave 


22  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

defence  to  the  valley,  Bowdoinham  was  firmly  settled,  and  became  the 
seat  of  a  large  (and  now  somnolent)  ship-building  industry.  Of  late 
years  the  ice  business  has  become  very  important,  and  thousands  of 
tons  of  frozen  Kennebec  are  shipped  hence  every  year.  Across  the  bay 
rise  the  rolling  hills  of  Woolwich  and  Dresden,  and  on  the  west  are  the 
granite  highlands  of  Bowdoin.  In  the  dim  antiquity  of  1649  Christo- 
pher Lawson  bought  all  this  Richmond  country  from  its  Indian  lords, 
and  just  seventy  years  later  Fort  Richmond  was  built,  within  the  present 
village  limits,  and  remained  as  a  guard  to  the  settlements  below  until 
1754,  when  a  new  line  of  fortifications  was  erected  farther  up  the  valley. 
When  the  shallops  and  vessels  of  the  first  European  explorers  entered 
the  river.  Swan  Island  (then  bearing  some  melodious  and  interminable 
aboriginal  name)  was  the  capital  of  the  lower  Kennebec  valley,  and  here 
dwelt  the  gallant  sachem,  Sebenoa.  During  William  and  Mary's  War,  in 
1692,  Colonel  Church  led  a  little  army  of  Massachusetts  troops  up  the 
river,  and  defeated  the  Indians  at  this  point. 

Dresden  lies  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Kennebec,  and  its  low  hills  and 
dark  woods  are  often  seen  as  the  train  runs  north  across  Richmond,  two 
miles  from  which,  up  the  water  (by  a  ferry),  is  the  hamlet  of  West 
Dresden.  Here  stands  the  ancient  court-house  of  Lincoln  County,  now 
well  over  a  century  old,  and  with  furniture  and  fireplaces  of  equal 
antiquity.  Here  occurred  the  first  hanging  in  Maine,  when  a  terrible 
murder  was  avenged  by  the  strong  hand  of  the  offended  law.  This 
town  was  in  the  territory  purchased  of  the  Indians  by  the  ambitious 
Christopher  Lawson,  and  sold  by  him  to  Clark  and  Lake,  the  ante- 
diluvian land  speculators.  The  latter  endeavored  to  live  on  his  new 
domain;  but  the  Indians  cancelled  his  title  by  putting  him  to  death,  and 
an  aristocratic  kinsman.  Sir  Biby  Lake,  came  into  possession.  It  was 
as  dangerous  a  piece  of  property  as  a  landed  estate  in  Ireland  is  in  the 
last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  the  good  English  knight 
contented  himself  with  barren  ownership,  and  did  not  take  possession. 
To  prevent  further  Indian  intrusions  (and  thus  to  reduce,  the  local 
death-rate)  a  formidable  fortress  was  erected,  and  named  Fort  Shirley, 
in  honor  of  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts.  Here  Major  Sam  Good- 
win lay  in  garrison,  with  a  band  of  tough  Provincials,  until  the  Con- 
quest of   Canada    removed    all    danger    from    the   heads   of   these   fair 


Topsham,  Bowdoinham,  and  Richmond.  23 

valleys.  Three  brothers  by  the  name  of  Gushing  settled  here  after  the 
fort  was  dismantled,  and  became  leaders  among  the  Kennebec  pioneers. 
Afterwards  a  number  of  the  Saxon  immigrants  whom  Gen.  Waldo  had 
brought  from  Europe  made  their  homes  here,  and  the  locality  naturally 
received  the  name  of  DRESDEN,  after  the  capital  of  their  country. 
Still  later  there  came  to  the  place  the  gallant  Major  Polereczky,  a 
veteran  officer  of  Rochani beau's  army,  who  received  the  proud  office 
of  town-clerk,  and  thus  ruled  the  records  of  the  little  republic  for  fifteen 
years. 

Richmond  is  a  pretty  river  village,  with  long  and  rural  streets,  over- 
arch-^d  with  elms  and  maples,  and  occupied  here  and  there  by  small 
factories.  Along  the  Kennebec  extend  the  great  ship-yards,  abounding 
in  shavings  and  chips,  and  overlooked  by  gaunt  stagings  from  which 
many  a  fleet  ocean-racer  has  slipped  away  into  its  destined  element. 

Ship-building  began  here  more  than  fifty  years  ago,  when  Israel 
Washburn  (the  father  of  E.  B.  Washburn,  Gen.  C.  C.  Washburn,  and 
Gov.  Israel  Washburn)  built  the  Poclntinnnus,  to  carry  cord-wood  to 
Boston,  and  bring  back  supplies  of  all  kinds.  This  was,  at  that  early 
day,  the  great  cord-wood  mart  of  the  East,  upon  which  Boston  was 
largely  dependent.  But  ship-building  supplanted  this  more  primitive 
trade,  and  by  the  year  1 854  a  dozen  vessels  were  on  the  stocks  here  at 
once.  Many  of  the  famous  Kennebec-built  clipper  ships  were  launched 
from  these  yards,  thereafter  to  sail  around  the  world  on  remote  and 
venturous  voyages.  If  you  stroll  up  Pleasant  street,  in  this  village  of 
Richmond,  you  will  see  dozens  of  snug  houses  ov/ned  and  occupied  by 
retired  sea-captains,  who  have  chosen  Richmond  in  preference  to  any 
of  the  tropical  paradises  to  which  the  wide  blue  seas  and  humming 
trade-winds  carried  their  fleet  ships.  Since  the  strangulation  of 
American  commerce  the  little  village  has  utilized  the  neighboring 
river  in  another  way,  —  by  quarrying  its  ice  in  winter,  and  sending  it 
away  to  the  great  cities  down  the  coast.  The  ice  aristocracy  now  holds 
its  head  high  in  the  town,  and  yields  no  precedence  to  the  wealthy 
shoe-manufacturers,  whose  factories  find  welcome  work  for  hundreds  of 
people.  In  summer,  when  the  three  local  hotels  and  the  various  village 
boardirlg-houses  are  fairly  occupied  by  visitors  from  the  cities,  many  a 
cheery  excursion  starts  out  from  the  embowered  streets,  riding  a  league 


24  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

or  so  westward  through  a  lovely  farmhig  country,  to  Cobbossee  Contee 
Pond,  windhig  among  the  grassy  hills ;  or  emulating  the  search  for  the 
Fountain  of  Youth,  at  the  Richmond  Mineral  Spring;  or  following  the 
pretty  river  roads,  with  long  vistas  up  and  down  the  stream.  Others 
may  sail  across  the  river  to  the  quaint  little  town  of  Perkins,  which  is 
composed  of  the  level  and  fertile  Swan  Island,  with  its  eighty  inhabi- 
tants and  its  $40,000  worth  of  estates.  It  is  a  town  with  neither  church 
nor  post-office,  doctor,  lawyer,  nor  clergyman,  and  so  the  inhabitants 
lead  long  and  peaceful  lives,  and  do  their  own  right  efficient  praying. 

The  Richmond  Mineral  Spring  flows  forth  in  a  romantic  little  glade 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  village,  and  has  a  great  local  fame  for  its 
efficacy  in  curing  severe  chronic  diseases.  It  is  a  remarkably  pure 
and  transparent  water,  slightly  alkaline.  The  proprietors  of  the  spring 
send  out  a  pamphlet  full  of  quaint  rustic  testimonials,  and  a  hotel  is 
about  to  be  erected  near  by. 

Northward  rushes  the  railway  train  from  Richmond,  past  the 
station  where  people  alight  for  the  Dresden  camp-meeting;  past  the 
little  flag-station  of  Iceboro',  where  may  be  seen  the  largest  ice-house 
in  the  world  ;  and  onward  into  Gardiner.  For  an  hour  and  a  half  the 
route  lies  close  beside  the  river,  with  line  after  line  of  rolling  highlands 
sloping  away,  at  fine  landscape  distance,  and  making  a  charming 
background  for  the  restless  waters  below.  Here  and  there  are  groves 
and  thickets,  sometimes  even  extensive  forests  of  rich  dark-green 
foliage,  making  bold  and  effective  contrasts  with  the  steel-gray  or  dark- 
blue  of  the  Kennebec  and  the  neutral  tints  of  the  farm  lands.  The 
Susquehanna  is  sweet  and  feminine,  like  its  name;  the  Hudson  is 
Europeanized,  a  practical  Western  Rhine;  the  Mississippi  slips  slowly 
down  through  thousands  of  miles  of  long-drawn  lowlands;  the  Kenne- 
bec, in  its  strong  syllables,  exemplifies  its  rude  northern  strength  and 
dash,  suggesting  the  tinkling  of  its  forest  tributaries,  with  the  sound  of 
the  ice-pick  and  the  woodman's  axe.  On  this  lower  and  navigable  ten 
leagues,  from  Brunswick  to  Augusta,  the  deficiency  of  the  scenery  in 
grandeur  or  richness  is  counterbalanced  by  a  certain  mellow  beauty, 
full  of  tranquillity  and  power  to  soothe.  Now  and  then  great  rafts  of 
logs  drift  by,  manned  by  tall  and  active  lumbermen  ;  or  trim  coasting 
vessels,  laden   low  with    crystalline   ice ;    or  white  steamboats,  crowded 


Gardiner.  25 

with  merry-making  travellers  bound  for  the  sea  and  its  islands:  or 
lonely  skiffs,  mere  dots  on  the  wide  and  glistening  waters.  On  the 
further  shores  appear  occasional  glimpses  of  white  villages,  the  spires 
of  little  rural  churches,  a  rosary  of  farm-houses  clearly  relieved 
against  the  green  hills,  far-extending  ice-houses  with  many  a  rocking 
mast  and  spar  outlined  before  them,  the  green  lateral  glens  of  inflowing 
streamlets,  and  the  graceful  highlands  stretching  far  and  clear  under  the 
bright  sky  of  the  North.  It  seems  a  land  of  endless  peace,  in  which  it 
is  always  afternoon.  Through  this  still  Arcadia  the  train  speeds  away, 
and  at  least  reaches  Gardiner,  the  city  of  ice. 


GARDINER. 


Gardiner  is  a  city,  with  the  population  of  a  village,  and  the  institu- 
tions of  a  great  town.  It  is  a  third  of  a  century  since  it  received  a  city 
charter,  but  the  population  has  not  yet  reached  5,000  souls,  and 
may  never  do  so,  since  it  has  fewer  inhabitants  now  than  in  i860  or 
1870.  Nevertheless,  it  possesses  a  right  brisk  business  street,  with  long 
brick  blocks,  busy  stores,  banks,  two  newspaper  offices,  several  hotels, 
and  lines  of  sidewalk  posts  at  which  the  drowsy  horses  of  the  country 
farmers  are  often  tethered.  Above,  on  the  heights,  is  a  pleasant  public 
square,  containing  the  soldiers'  monument,  and  surrounded  by  the  High 
School,  the  stone  church  of  the  Episcopalians,  and  the  humbler  fanes 
of  the  Roman  Catholics,  Congregationalists,  and  Baptists.  This  is  on 
Church  Hill,  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  above  the  river,  and  the 
park  was  given  to  the  people  by  Mr.  R.  H.  Gardiner. 

To  the  north  is  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Cobbossee  Contee  stream, 
which,  within  a  mile  of  its  confluence  with  the  Kennebec,  descends  one 
hundred  and  twenty-seven  feet,  in  eight  falls,  most  of  which  arc  improved 
by  substantial  stone  dams.  This  downward  plunge  of  the  waters  of 
Cobbossee  Contee  Pond,  from  its  high  and  sunny  plateau  to  the  low 
tidal  levels,   is  Gardi.ner's    reason  for   existence;    for  on  the  hydraulic 


26  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

power  thus  created  are  several  factories  for  paper-making  and  other 
works,  saw-mills,  grist-mills,  and  machine-shops,  the  annual  product  of 
them  all  being  over  $2,000,000.  In  the  summer  of  1882  all  this 
manufacturing  district  was  burned  over,  but  better  buildings  soon  rose 
from  the  ruins;  for  the  water-power  (now  mainly  owned  by  the 
Gardiner  family)  has  lately  been  augmented  and  made  unfailing  by 
the  purchase  of  several  storage-ponds,  and  ranks  among  the  best  in 
New  England.  The  paper-mills  turn  out  thirteen  tons  of  paper  daily. 
The  Oakland  Manufacturing  Company  produces  (among  other  articles) 
immense  numbers  of  base-ball  bats  and  bed-slats,  and  also  600,000 
broomsticks  yearl)',  which  are  exported  to  Australia,  New  Zealand, 
South  Africa,  England,  and  other  foreign  countries,  to  promote  that 
cleanliness  which   ranks  next  to  the  noblest  virtue. 

Along  the  river-front  there  are  many  wharves,  where  much  ado  is 
made  in  loading  lumber  and  ice,  and  unloading  coal.  One  of  these  is 
the  pier  of  the  Star  of  the  East,  a  venerable  steamer  which  plies  to  and 
fro  between  this  port  and  Boston,  and  connects  here  with  a  smaller 
steamboat  for  Hallowell  and  Augusta.  Near  by  is  the  ancient  toll- 
bridge  across  the  Kennebec,  nine  hundred  feet  long,  and  good  for 
$9,000  a  year  in  tolls.  The  merchants  of  Gardiner  make  frequent  en- 
deavors to  have  the  bridge  declared  free,  since  the  matter  of  the  toll,  small 
as  it  is,  causes  many  of  the  farmers  beyond  to  seek  other  towns  for  their 
trading.  A  cent  from  a  footman,  ninepcnce  from  a  carriage,  is  the 
inexorable  tollman's  meed.  On  the  further  shore  is  the  pretty  village 
of  Pittston,  once  famous  for  its  skilful  ship-builders.  The  Grace  Cush- 
iiig,  the  last  vessel  built  here,  was  launched  in  1871,  and  now  nothing 
remains  of  the  ancient  yards  but  dry  chips  and  dryer  traditions. 

The  shores  near  Gardiner,  and  for  many  miles  below,  are  studded 
with  huge  ice-houses,  largely  the  jjropcrty  of  powerful  companies  of 
New- York  capitalists.  One  dollar  a  ton  pays  for  putting  up,  housing, 
and  shipping  the  ice,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  tons  are  thus 
harvested  every  year.  Eor  miles  on  miles  these  monstrous  ice-houses 
extend,  on  both  sides  of  the  river ;  and  during  the  shipping  season 
fleets  of  fine  vessels  (largely  three-masted  schooners)  are  moored  at 
their  wharves.  The  river  is  more  valuable  than  its  shores,  and  its 
frozen  film  has  more  worth  than  the  products  of  its  valley.     Year  after 


Gardiner,  27 

year  new  and  greater  houses  are  erected,  in  which  to*store  this  precious 
fragment  of  the  Kennebec  waters ;  and  larger  and  larger  fleets  sail  up 
the  placid  stream.  The  ice-crop  of  the  winter  of  1882-83  reached 
nearly  700,000  tons,  and  employed  the  services  of  3,000  sturdy 
harvesters  for  thirty  days.  Nearly  half  of  this  quantity  came  from 
the  waters  near  Gardiner  and  Hallowell.  .  The  operation  of  loading  a 
vessel  with  ice  is  full  of  interest  and  excitement.  Each  cake  of  ice  is 
kept  on  the  run  from  the  "time  it  is  cut  out  of  the  half-unified  mass  in 
the  cold,  black  caverns  of  the  ice-house  until  it  is  stowed  in  the  hold 
of  the  vessel  lying  alongside.  A  gioup  of  men  with  picks  run  it  out 
to  the  inclined  plane  leading  to  the  deck,  and  others  stationed  at  various 
points  below  urge  it  on  with  their  picks,  until,  flying  over  the  scales 
which  register  its  weight,  the  crystal  square  descends  on  the  vessel,  and 
is  seized  by  iron  dogs,  and  swung  into  the  hold.  This  journey  is  made 
amid  a  perfect  babel  of  shoutings  and  gibberings  from  the  workmen, 
coruscating  with  ingenious  and  complicated  oaths. 

About  the  year  1670  a  gallant  fellow  named  Alexander  Brown  came 
up  to  the  green  meadows  on  the  Pittston  shore,  which  the  Indians  then 
called  by  the  terrifying  name  of  Kcrdoornicorp,  and  made  himself  a 
farm.  He  also  got  great  profit  by  catching  the  sturgeon,  which  then 
swam  up  and  down  the  stream,  and  sending  them  to  the  London  market, 
where  they  were  much  prized  at  Billingsgate.  This  thrifty  commerce 
was  brought  to  a  dread  close  in  1676,  when  the  Indians  made  a  foray 
down  the  valley  and  slew  the  slayer  of  sturgeon  before  his  burning 
house.  Fifty  years  after  Brown's  death,  Dr.  Noyes,  of  Boston,  the  agent 
of  the  Kennebec  proprietors,  built  a  fort  on  the  shore,  not  far  from 
Nahumkeag  Island  ;  but  this,  too,  was  destroyed  by  the  red  lords  of  the 
soil.  After  1754,  when  Fort  Halifax  was  built,  up  the  river,  Dr.  Syl- 
vester Gardiner,  of  Boston,  a  wealthy  physician  and  importer  of  drugs, 
began  the  development  of  the  plans  which  resulted  in  his  acquisition  of 
most  of  the  territory  hereabouts,  and  its  settlement  by  immigrants, 
many  of  whom  came  direct  from  Falmouth,  England.  The  river  was 
then  bordered  by  groves  of  white  and  red  oak,  which  was  cut  down  and 
sent  to  England,  while  the  spruce  and  ash  on  the  hills  sought  a  market 
at  Boston,  where  the  lumber  from  the  Kennebec  Purchase  found  place 
in  the  rising  mansions  of  the  shipping  merchants.     The  town-meetings 


28  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

were  held  in  the  otd  "church-house,"  or  Episcopal  church;  and  Gen. 
Henry  Dearborn,  the  United-States  Marshal  for  Maine,  Hved  on  the  site 
of  the  Gardiner  Bank,  and  ordered  many  an  unruly  vagabond  to  the  whip- 
ping-post. Benjamin  Shaw  was  the  constable  and  executioner;  and  the 
culprits  of  those  early  days  had  such  a  wholesome  fear  of  his  strong  arm 
that,  when  he  wished  to  arrest  one,  he  sent  his  jack-knife  to  the  hapless 
varlet,  in  the  surety  that  he  would  return  it  in  person,  and  abide  the 
law's  verdict.  Dearborn  first  passed  the  scene  of  his  primitive  reign  in 
1775,  when,  a  young  soldier,  he  ascended  the  Kennebec  with  Arnold's 
army  of  Virginia,  Pennsylvania,  and  Massachusetts  volunteers.  In  later 
years  he  commanded  the  American  armies  invading  Canada,  in  1812, 
and  was  United-States  minister  to  the  court  of  Portugal. 

Dr.  Gardiner  was  a  Tory,  and  fled  to  Halifax  with  the  British  gar- 
rison of  Boston  ;  but  his  heirs  saved-  the  estate  from  confiscation,  and 
erected  a  great  black  marble  cenotaph  to  his  memory,  in  the  Episcopal 
church  at  Gardiner.  His  son  William  inherited  the  domain  hereabouts, 
and  is  buried  under  the  church.  Another  son,  John,  "^ome  time  Attor- 
ney-General in  the  British  West  Indies,  became  one  of  the  founders  of 
Unitarianism  in  Boston,  and  was  the  father  of  John  Sylvester  John 
Gardiner,  rector  of  Trinity  Church,  Boston.  Oakland  Place,  the  hand- 
some granite  mansion  of  the  Gardiners,  built  in  1836,  and  still  held  by 
the  family,  is  near  the  river,  about  a  mile  from  the  centre  of  the  city. 
It  was  characterized  in  Downing's  book,  as  ''  the  most  remarkable  seat 
in  Maine,  as  respects  landscape  gardening  and  architecture." 

Four  miles  out,  on  the  Brunswick  road,  is  Libbey  Hill,  command- 
ing a  famous  view  over  the  lakes  and  forests  and  farms  of  the  Kenne- 
bec valley.  On  a  clear  day  the  glimmer  of  the  White  Mountains  may 
be  perceived,  far  away  in  the  west;  and  more  to  the  northward  rise  the 
nearer  peaks  of  Saddleback  and  Mount  Blue.  Pleasant  drives  also  lead 
to  the  bright  waters  of  Cobbossee  Contee  Pond,  and  out  across  the 
Kennebec  to  the  Soldiers'  Home  of  New  England,  the  military  asylum 
at  Togus  Springs. 

It  is  a  short  four  miles  from  Gardiner  to  its  little  sister  city.  Hallo- 
well,  famous  for  fine  granite.  The  train  crosses  the  Cobbossee  Contee 
just  above  Gardiner,  and  then  runs  close  along  the  Kennebec  for  a 
league,  past    huge    ice-houses,  at  whose  wharves    lies    many  a  three- 


Hallowell.  29 

masted  schooner,  and  past  several  booms,  in  whicn  myriads  of  logs  are 
collected.  The  lumber  business  still  maintains  great  proportions, 
although  it  would  seem  as  if  the  forests  of  entire  empires  had  already 
been  felled  and  drifted  down  the  Maine  rivers.  In  i88l,  150,000,000 
feet  of  lumber  came  down  the  Kennebec  alone,  and  in  1883  there  were 
upwards  of  110,000.000  feet.  If  the  snow  lies  right,  and  the  spring- 
rains  are  copious,  the  drive  starts  about  the  first  of  May,  and  reaches 
Augusta  and  Hallowell  in  July  or  August.  In  the  1883  drive  there 
were  1,000,000  feet  each  from  Attean  Pond,  Moose  River,  and  Cold 
Stream;  7,000,000  from  Dead  River;  3,000,000  from  Moxie  Stream ; 
and  other  large  supplies  from  Brassua  Lake,  Parlin  Pond,  and  remoter 
out-of-the-way  nooks  of  the  wilderness. 


HALLOWELL. 

Clattering  past  the  cliff-like  sides  of  the  ice-houses,  and  whirling 
swiftly  around  the  river  bluffs,  the  train  soon  reaches  the  famous  river- 
port  of  Hallowell,  small  in  population,  but  great  in  energy  and  enter- 
prise. 

The  first  settler  in  this  town  was  Deacon  Pease  Clark,  who  came 
up  hither  from  Attleborough,  Massachusetts,  in  1754. 

In  1 77 1  the  town  was  incorporated,  and  took  its  name  from 
Robert  Hallowell,  a  great  landowner  in  these  parts,  who  died  at 
Gardiner,  in  181 8,  aged  eighty.  Robert's  brother,  Benjamin  Hallowell, 
was  commissioner  of  the  Royal  revenue  at  Boston,  and  when  the  Revo- 
lution broke  out  he  fled,  and  his  estate  was  confiscated.  This  gentle- 
man's daughter  married  Benjamin  Vaughan,  a  young  Jamaican  who  had 
graduated  at  English  Cambridge,  and  studied  law  at  the  Temple,  and 
medicine  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  The  first  stood  him  in  good 
stead  when  he  was  elected  to  Parliament  and  became  a  leader  of  the 
Whig  party ;  and  the  medical  study  was  made  a  blessing  to  all  his  poor 
and   distressed   neighbors   for  many  years.     During  the  French  Revo- 


30  Sujnnier  Days  Down  East. 

lution  he  became  politically  compromised,  and  was  forced  to  flee  to 
France,  and  thence  to  Maine,  where  he  found  repose  on  the  domain  of 
his  wife's  uncle,  Robert  Hallowell.  Vast  was  the  influence  of  this 
cultivated  gentleman  upon  the  infant  State.  His  noble  library  was  a 
well-spring  of  learning  in  a  literary  desert ;  from  his  nursery  of  fruit- 
trees  sprang  half  the  orchards  in  the  upper  Kennebec  valley;  and  the 
Vaughan  farm  was  noted  for  its  rare  imported  cattle.  His  eff"orts  were 
aided  by  his  brother  Charles,  and  by  the  learned  John  Merrick,  his 
brother-in-law,  who  lived  until  1861.  In  this  happy  valley  of  Maine 
Dr.  Vaughan  lived  for  forty  years,  devoting  himself  to  study  and  author- 
ship, benevolence,  and  works  of  public  service,  and  entertaining  scores 
of  eminent  guests,  scholars,  and  philanthropists  from  all  over  the 
world,  who  came  hither  to  commune  with  "The  rural  Socrates." 
Among  these  was  Talleyrand,  prime  minister  of  France  under  Louis 
Philippe,  who  once  fell  into  Vaughan  Stream,  and  got  a  good  ducking 
withal.  His  visit  occurred  in  1794,  and  he  was  accompanied  by  Louis 
Philippe,  afterwards  king  of  France.  For  many  years  Hallowell  had  a 
considerable  shipping  and  export  trade,  and  the  Vaughan  family 
endeavored  to  secure  for  it  the  commerce  of  the  upper  Connecticut 
valley  by  having  a  road  surveyed  to  Gorham.  But  the  undertaking 
was  too  great  for  those  days,  and  the  subsequent  construction  of  rail- 
roads took  away  most  of  the  business  of  the  little  port,  and  left  it  to 
depend  on  its  own  granite  hills  for  support. 

Jacob  Abbott,  the  author  of  the  RoUo  books  and  many  other 
popular  works,  was  born  at  Hallowell,  where  he  and  his  brother,  John 
S.  C.  Abbott  (the  biographer  of  Napoleon),  lived  for  many  years. 
Gen.  O.  O.  Howard,  also,  was  for  a  long  time  a  resident.  The  old 
Vaughan  spirit  still  lingers  here,  and  its  manifestations  appear  in  the 
well-equipped  Classical  and  Scientific  Academy,  in  the  beautiful  charity 
of  the  Maine  Industrial  School  for  Girls,  and  in  the  Social  Library, 
established  in  a  handsome  Gothic  building  of  white  granite,  with 
polished  red  granite  columns  and  carved  oaken  doors.  There  are,  also, 
half-a-dozen  churches,  a  newspaper,  and  three  banks,  for  a  population 
of  a  little  over  3,000,  and  a  valuation  of  $i,6oo,000.  The  site  of  the 
little  city  is  attractive,  being  a  curving  hill-side,  which  rises  over  a  bay- 
like broadening  of  the  Kennebec,  and  is  adorned  with  very  many  waving 


Augusta.  31 

trees,  some  of  which  date  from  the  remote  days  when  the  locaHty  was 
known  only  as  "  The  Hook." 

The  Hallovvell  granite  is  nearly  white,  and  very  hard,  yet  capable 
of  assuming  beautiful  forms  under  the  chisel.  Among  the  recent 
products  of  these  quarries  are  the  colossal  statue  of  Education  (forty 
feet  high)  for  the  Pilgrims'  Monument  at  Plymouth,  the  w^w  Board  of 
Trade  Building  at  Chicago  (now  under  construction),  the  Boston 
Soldiers'  Monument,  the  Sphinx  at  Mount  Auburn,  the  Douglas  Tomb 
at  Chicago,  the  Yorktown  Monument,  the  new  Capitol  at  Albany,  and 
many  other  famous  monuments  and  buildings  at  Detroit,  St.  Louis,  and 
elsewhere.  One  hundred  and  twenty  men  are  kept  at  work  in  the 
ledges  west  of  the  city,  and  the  annual  product  is  upwards  of  $350,000, 
much  of  which  is  devoted  to  monumental  work,  the  carving  being 
entrusted  to  skilful  Italian  sculptors.  The  models  are  first  made  in 
clay,  and  then  reproduced  in  plaster,  from  which  the  carvers  work. 
The  gran,ite  is  polished  by  moistened  emery  powder,  which  is  pressed 
against  it  by  a  revolving  iron  disk. 

Among  the  other  interesting  manufactures  of  Hallowell  are  the 
sand-paper  works,  where  powdered  quartz  is  sprinkled  upon  and  pressed 
into  glued  brown  paper ;  the  large  oil-cloth  factories ;  and  the  wire- 
works,  where  Bessem.er  iron  rods  are  drawn  out  in  a  solution  of  rye- 
meal,  and  carefully  annealed. 

The  ride  from  Hallowell  to  Augusta  leads  along  the  Kennebec 
shore,  and  takes  but  a  few  minutes. 


AUGUSTA. 


Augusta,  the  capital  of  Maine,  is  a  charming  semi-rural  city  of 
about  9,000  inhabitants,  having  a  valuation  exceeding  $5,000,000,  with 
plenty  of  schools  and  more  than  enough  churches,  like  most  New-Eng- 
land communities.  It  also  has  three  national  banks  and  two  savings- 
banks,  several  enterprising  newspapers,  and  three  or  four  large  hotels. 


32  Summer  Days  Dozvn  East 

There  is  one  very  brisk  and  noisy  business  street,  parallel  with  the 
river,  from  which  shorter  streets  climb  the  heights  to  the  noble  avenues 
above,  with  their  grassy  borders,  wide-spreading  elms,  and  comfortable 
mansions.  There  is  plenty  of  pure  air  here,  and  delightful  surroundings 
on  all  sides,  and  many  are  the  summer  visitors  who  sojourn  in  this  quiet 
and  refined  little  capital,  driving  about  the  adjacent  hill  country  and 
enjoying  the  cool  northern  air.  Mr.  Blaine  says  that  he  can  recuperate 
in  this  climate  of  Augusta  more  quickly  than  anywhere  else  in  the 
world;  and  many  another  exhausted  toiler  has  found  the  tonic  equally 
good. 

The  State  House  is  a  handsome  and  imposing  classic  building,  of 
white  granite,  rising  above  a  dense  greenery  of  forest  trees,  and  from 
its  lofty  perch  overlooking  the  Kennebec  and  its  valley  for  many 
leagues.  It  is  now  more  than  half  a  century  old;  and  within  a  few 
years  was  strongly  garrisoned  by  militia  and  defended  by  artillery,  as 
a  result  of  hot  political  quarrels  and  a  contested  election  for  governor. 
In  the  rotunda  are  eighty  tattered  battle-flags  of  the  Maine  volunteers 
in  the  Secession  War,  with  a  great  number  of  cavalry  and  artillery 
pennons,  and  a  half-score  of  captured  rebel  flags.  It  is  proudly 
claimed  that  not  even  a  single  stand  of  colors  was  lost  by  the  Maine 
troops  during  the  war.  Among  these  glorious  mementos  are  portraits 
recalling  by-gone  centuries,  representing  Pownall  and  Pepperell,  Knox 
and  Washington,  and  other  ancient  heroes  and  statesmen.  The  visitor 
may  also  glance  into  the  halls  of  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representa- 
tives, and  the  great  State  Library,  and  then  climb  to  the  top  of  the 
dome  and  look  down  over  silvery  leagues  of  the  Kennebec  and  broad 
undulating  townships  of  the  hill-country. 

Close  to  the  State  House,  among  pleasant  grounds,  is  the  cosey 
home  of  James  G.  Blaine,  the  most  popular  and  powerful  of  modern 
American  politicians,  who  has  lived  at  Augusta  for  more  than  forty 
years.  In  the  Senate  chamber  above  is  the  old-fashioned  desk  at 
which  he  began  newspaper  life,  reporting  during  several  terms  the 
debates  for  "  The  Kennebec  Journal."  When  twenty-six  years  old  he 
was  chosen  Speaker  of  the  Legislature,  and  he  has  said,  "When  I  was 
elected  Speaker,  I  felt  prouder  over  it  than  of  any  office  to  which  I  have 
since  been  called."     Augusta  was  also  the  home   of  the  late  Lot  M. 


A  It  gust  a.  33 

Morrill,  long  time  a  Senator  of  the  United  States,  and  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury. 

Not  far  from  the  handsome  Augusta  House,  on  the  plateau,  is  a 
very  impressive  monument,  with  bronze  rejiefs  and  statue,  commem- 
orating the  two  hundred  volunteers  (out  of  the  city's  contingent  of 
1,000  men)  who  died  on  the  Southern  battle-fields.  It  is  inscribed: 
"  In  honor  of  her  heroic  sons  who  died  in  the  war  for  the  Union,  and 
to  commend  their  example  to  succeeding  generations,  this  monument 
is  erected  by  the  city  of  Augusta,  A.D.  i88i."  On  the  same  fine 
avenue  are  the  modern  buildings  of  Kennebec  County,  and  also  a 
handsome  and  stately  Congregational  church,  of  granite. 

The  Cony  Female  Academy  was  founded  in  1815  by  Judge  Cony, 
who  had  the  building  erected  and  furnished  before  revealing  to  the 
wondering  Augustans  his  purpose.  The  institution  has  been  closed  for 
several  years,  and  the  endowment  fund  has  so  effectually  increased  that 
a  stately  new  brick  building  has  been  erected.  Not  far  from  this 
structure  is  a  very  popular  Episcopal  boarding-school  for  young  ladies, 
known  as  St.  Catherine's  Hall,  and  partly  connected  with  the  flourish- 
ing parish  and  church  of  St.  Mark's. 

Augusta  is  the  fifth  office  in  the  United  States  for  second-class 
mail  matter,  since  it  is  the  very  paradise  of  periodical  light  literature, 
of  which  there  are  several  very  large  publishing  houses  here,  with 
immense  and  massive  buildings,  electrotype  foundries,  and  other  costly 
paraphernalia.  One  of  these  alone  has  five  hundred  employes,  and 
buildings  which  cost  upwards  of  $300,000,  and  runs  day  and  night, 
sending  out  yearly  1,600  tons  of  papers  and  magazines,  at  an  annual 
postal  expense  of  nearly  $150,000.  Anglo-Saxon  America  is  flooded 
with  circulars  from  these  great  houses,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
families  are  mainly  dependent  on  the  great  Hoe  presses  of  Augusta  for 
their  literary  supplies. 

Near  the  eastern  end  of  the  Kennebec  bridge  stands  a  poor  tene- 
ment-house, one  hundred  feet  long,  with  huge  chimneys,  small  windows, 
and  walls  of  solid  timbers  twelve  inches  thick.  This  building  was  the 
home  of  the  commander  of  the  ancient  castle  of  the  region,  which  was 
erected  in  1754,  and  long  garrisoned  with  Provincial  troops,  to  protect 
the    country    against    the    savages.       It   received    the    name    of  Fort 


34  Sufmner  Days  Down  East. 

Western,  in  honor  of  a  friend  of  Governor  Shirley,  in  Merrie  England. 
The  works  were  surrounded  with  a  palisade,  at  whose  corners  stood 
massive  block-houses.  As  early  as  the  year  1629  the  Plymouth  fur- 
traders  had  established  a  post  here,  at  Cushnoc,  near  the  village  of  the 
Canibas  Indians.  About  ninety  years  later  the  strongest  stone  fort  in 
the  country  was  built  on  the  same  site ;  but  this  suffered  the  fate  of  the 
trading  post,  and  was  totally  destroyed  by  hostile  Indians.  After  the 
Revolution  the  locality  became  settled  very  rapidly,  and  by  1828 
Augusta  was  big  enough  to  be  made  the  capital  of  Maine. 

Benedict  Arnold  sailed  up  to  this  point,  the  head  of  sloop  navi- 
gation, with  his  army,  and  here  built  bateaux  in  which  to  ascend  the 
Kennebec,  while  his  men  were  quartered  in  Fort  Western.  Eighty-six 
years  later  Augusta  again  became  a  military  post,  when  regiment  after 
regiment  of  Maine  lumbermen  and  farmers  was  formed  and  encamped 
here,  before  being  sent  off  to  death  in  Virginia. 

Just  above  the  city  is  the  great  Kennebec  Dam,  five  hundred  and 
eighty-four  feet  long  and  fifteen  feet  high,  built  in  1833-37,  at  a  cost  of 
$300,000,  and  furnishing  an  enormous  power  for  the  mills  below.  For 
years  the  river  has  been  idly  foaming  over  the  dam,  since  the  property 
belonged  to  the  Rhode-Island  Spragues,  and  shared  the  fate  of  their 
other  enterprises.  Quite  recently,  however,  the  mills,  dam,  and  con- 
tiguous estates,  valued  altogether  at  $2,000,000,  were  bought  by  a 
syndicate  of  Boston  and  Augusta  capitalists,  who  intend  to  have  eight 
hundred  operatives  at  work  here  this  year. 

The  State  Insane  Asylum  is  on  a  secluded  and  sunny  height 
across  the  Kennebec,  surrounded  with  three  hundred  acres  of  cultivated 
grounds,  with  masses  of  bright  flowers  and  clumps  of  handsome  trees. 
The  older  asylum,  which  stood  on  the  same  site,  was  burned  in  1850, 
when  twenty-eight  lives  were  lost.  Many  of  the  three  hundred  inmates 
solace  the  hours  of  their  enforced  retirement  from  the  world  by  laboring 
on  the  great  farm  connected  with  the  institution. 

Below  the  asylum,  on  the  river-side  lowlands,  is  the  Kennebec 
Arsenal,  where  the  National  Government  keeps  a  lot  of  its  old-fashioned 
artillery  and  muskets.  The  spacious  grounds  about  these  old  stone 
buildings  are  types  of  military  neatness,  and  the  War  Department  keeps  a 
handsome  flag  on  the  tall  staff.     The  arsenal  was  founded  in  1828,  under 


Togus  Springs.  35 

the  direction  of  the  doughty  Col.  Bomford,  of  the  Ordnance  department, 
to  store  arms  and  ammunition  for  the  exposed  northern  and  eastern 
frontiers.  Among  the  commandants  here  were  Gen.  J.  W.  Ripley,  of 
the  Ordnance  department;  Robert  Anderson,  afterwards  the  hero  of 
Fort  Sumter;  O.  O.  Howard,  now  a  general  in  the  U.S.  Army,  and 
other  officers  who  became  famous  in  later  years.  During  the  Mexican 
War  the  arsenal  was  the  scene  of  very  active  work ;  and  while  the 
Secession  War  was  going  on  great  quantities  of  fixed  ammunition  were 
prepared  here.  The  military  stores  at  that  time  were  valued  at  a 
million  and  a  half  dollars ;  and  an  attempt  by  supposed  rebel  emissaries 
to  surprise  the  arsenal  at  midnight,  from  the  river,  was  frustrated  by  the 
sentinels. 

The  best  view-point  near  Augusta  is  Oliver  Hill,  above  the  Catho- 
hc  cemetery,  and  the  graveyard  of  the  post  hospital  of  1861—62,  and 
named  for  Captain  Oliver,  whose  mansion  stood  near  by.  Thirty  town- 
ships in  the  valley  are  overlooked  from  this  noble  height,  with  countless 
quiet  Kennebec  farmsteads,  white  villages,  and  far  blue  mountain 
ranges.  From  other  high  hills  back  of  the  city  very  lovely  views  are 
afforded,  including  the  serpentine  stream  and  its  daughter  cities  on  one 
side,  and  on  the  other  the  lofty  peaks  of  Mount  Blue,  Mount  Abraham, 
and  Saddleback,  and  the  long  azure  wall  of  the  distant  White 
Mountains.  A  favorite  drive  leads  out  over  the  Winthrop  road  for  four 
and  a  half  miles  to  Hammond's  Grove,  a  pleasant  picnic-ground  at 
the  head  of  Cobbossee  Contee ;  and  here  one  can  get  boats,  wherewith 
to  go  out  and  seek  the  bass  that  inhabit  these  crystal  waters.  The 
road  thence  to  the  outlet  runs  over  elevated  ground,  and  gives  many  a 
charming  view  across  the  highland  lake ;  and  the  Hallowell  road  leads 
thence  through  a  very  picturesque  region  of  woods  and  dales  back 
toward  Augusta. 

The  Soldiers'  Home  at  Togus  is  a  very  interesting  institution,  a 
sort  of  American  Hotel  des  Invalides,  in  a  lovely  valley  five  miles  east 
of  Gardiner,  and  seven  miles  from  Augusta,  among  the  low  hills  of 
Chelsea.  There  is  a  mineral  spring  here,  and  many  years  ago  some  one 
built  a  large  summer  hotel  near  by.  But  guests  came  slowly  to  this 
Maine  Bethesda,  and  finally  the  discouraged  proprietors  sold  the  place 
to  the  United  States,  to  be  used  as  a  home  for  disabled  soldiers  of  the 


36  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

Secession  War.  The  premises  were  not  long  afterwards  cleaned  up  by 
a  fire,  which  swept  away  the  old  buildings,  and  left  the  ground  clear  for 
the  spacious  and  comfortable  brick  structures  which  now  constitute  the 
Home.  It  is  a  regular  military  post,  with  flagstaff,  guns,  uniformed 
veterans,  regular  company  organizations,  and  a  fine  military  band. 
Everything  is  provided  for  the  comfort  of  the  old  boys  in  blue,  and 
there  is  no  work  imposed  upon  them,  except  in  cases  of  misbehavior, 
when  they  are  set  to  labor  on  the  farm  for  a  certain  number  of  days; 
or,  if  they  sometimes  get  tired  of  fighting  over  old  battles,  and 
reenacting  the  defence  of  Cemetery  Hill  or  the  storming  of  Fort 
Fisher,  they  can  go  to  work  for  a  few  days  in  the  shoe  factory  on  the 
grounds,  and  earn  money  enough  to  buy  a  box  or  two  of  prime  cigars, 
or  a  set  of  Charles  Lever's  novels.  To  pass  the  happy  hours  away  they 
have  a  free  circulating-library  of  five  thousand  volumes;  a  reading- 
room  containing  the  chief  daily  and  weekly  newspapers ;  a  billiard- 
room,  and  a  bowling-alley ;  and  a  hall,  which,  on  different  days,  serves 
the  purposes  of  theatre  and  church.  There  are  thirteen  hundred 
men  dependent  on  the  Home  for  rations,  and  living  close  by,  and  nine 
hundred  men  who  are  inmates  of  the  post.  The  dining-room  seats 
six  hundred ;  and  in  a  single  dinner  these  hearty  sons  of  Mars  con- 
sume a  full  ton  of  meat  and  fish.  Every  month  they  make  way 
with  two  tons  of  sugar,  a  ton  of  coffee,  and  over  a  hundred  barrels 
of  flour,  —  so  that  any  temporary  delinquencies  of  the  old-time 
commissariats  in  Virginia  or  Georgia  are  now  more  than  amply  made  up 
to  the  grizzled  veterans.  Here  and  there  are  venerable  Uncle  Tobys 
whose  army  service  began  almost  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  the  Legion 
of  the  West,  and  who  speak  of  Chapultepec  and  Monterey  with 
kindling  eye.  Others  have  grim  memories  of  battles  on  the  plains  with 
the  wild  Comanches  and  Dakotas,  or  ghastly  scenes  among  the 
mountain  fastnesses  of  the  Apaches  and  the  Utes. 

•'  The  neighing  troop,  the  flashing  blade, 

The  bugle's  stirring  blast, 
The  charge,  the  dreadful  cannonade. 

The  din  and  shout  are  passed. 
Nor  War's  wild  notes,  nor  Glory's  peal. 

Shall  thrill  with  fierce  delight 
These  breasts,  that  nevermore  may  feel 

The  rapture  of  the  fight." 


Q^ 


(^ 


'A 


Valley  From  Augusta  to  Waterville.  37 


THE   VALLEY    FROM    AUGUSTA  TO 
WATERVILLE. 

The  line  crosses  the  Kennebec  on  a  high  bridge  of  stone  and  iron, 
with  good  views  of  the  great  Kennebec  Dam  on  the  left,  and  of  the 
broad  stream  on  the  right.  Running  northward  on  the  east  bank,  the 
river  is  almost  constantly  in  view,  with  the  trees  on  its  banks  mirrored 
in  the  clear  water,  and  here  and  there  stranded  or  floating  logs  from 
the  vast  forests  of  the  North. 

Farther  along  is  the  station  of  Riverside,  where  a  ferry  crosses  to 
the  west  bank  of  the  river,  and  roads  run  into  the  corn-producing 
back  country.  At  Vassalboro',  the  next  station,  stages  are  in  waiting  to 
carry  passengers  over  the  hills  to  North  and  East  Vassalboro'  and  China, 
—  pretty  rural  villages  to  the  eastward.  This  wealthy  old  town,  richly 
diversified  in  its  scenery,  and  famous  for  its  luscious  fruits  and  promis- 
ing water-powers,  was  first  settled  in  1760,  and  included  among  its 
pioneers  two  of  the  guides  of  Arnold's  expedition,  one  of  whom,  Dennis 
Gatchell,  long  held  the  office  of  captain  of  the  town,  while  another, 
John  Gatchell,  was  a  valiant  hunter,  and  had  vanquished  and  slain  a 
wounded  moose  in  hand-to-hand  combat.  He  was  as  wary  as  valiant, 
and  cut  a  subterranean  passage  from  his  house  to  the  river  below,  so 
that  he  could  escape  in  case  of  a  siege  by  hostile  Indians.  A  few  years 
later,  these  doughty  warriors  were  joined  by  one  of  Washington's  life- 
guardsmen,  and  by  other  veterans  of  the  Revolution.  To  neutralize 
the  martial  counsels  of  these  men  of  war.  Providence  next  sent  a  large 
number  of  Cape-Cod  people  hither,  to  live  in  the  deep  peace  and  God- 
liness of  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  to  found  a  church  and  school  (the 
Oak-Grove  Seminary)  which  still  flourish  in  the  land.  The  building 
was  burned  in  March,  1883,  but  doubtless  it  will  rise  again  in  renewed 
beauty. 

The  train  runs  north  from  Vassalboro'  for  ten  minutes,  with  the 
broad  river  on  the  left,  and  then  stops  at  Winslow,  near  the  pretty  little 


38  Suniiney  Days  Down  East. 

village  of  the  same  name,  nestling  deep  under  great  trees,  and  inhabited 
by  the  descendants  of  the  ancient  Puritan  immigrants  from  Massachu- 
setts. The  line  next  crosses  the  Sebasticook  River  on  a  covered 
bridge,  immediately  after  emerging  from  which  one  sees,  on  the  left- 
hand  side,  and  close  to  the  track,  the  ancient  block-house  of  Fort 
Halifax,  now  carefully  preserved  by  the  antiquaries  of  ]\Iaine.  This 
beautiful  site,  at  the  confluence  of  the  Kennebec  and  Sebasticook,  was 
the  capital  of  the  Indian  tribes  in  this  region,  —  if  people  could  be  said 
to  have  had  a  capital  who  possessed  as  little  sense  of  permanent  resi- 
dence as  the  birds  have,  or  the  fishes.  Here,  at  any  rate,  were  brave 
fishing-grounds,  and  broad  alluvial  meadows  on  which  the  squaws 
planted  corn  and  vegetables  wherewith  to  feed  their  lazy  lords.  In 
1676,  when  Massachusetts  was  being  burnt  and  flayed  by  King 
Philip's  red  warriors,  her  council  of  war  sent  Abraham  Shurt,  of  Pema- 
quid,  into  the  heart  of  the  country,  to  search  out  the  Kennebec  chief- 
tains, and  detach  them  from  alliance  with  the  hostile  tribes.  The  envoy 
was  received  with  much  barbaric  state  in  the  fortified  "great  wigwam" 
on  this  site. 

As  civilization  advanced  up  the  valley  it  became  necessary  to 
embattle  its  advanced  guards,  and  so  a  new  fort  was  erected  at  this 
point  of  vantage  by  the  orders  of  Massachusetts.  The  corner-stone  of 
this  Provincial  fortress  is  now  in  the  State  House  at  Augusta,  and  bears 
an  inscription  as  follows  :  THIS  Corner-Stoxe  LAID  BY  DIRECTION 
OF  Governor  Shirley,  1754.  The  commander  of  the  troops  who 
built  the  fort  was  Gen.  John  Winslow,  a  veteran  of  the  fatal  Havana 
expedition,  and  the  next  year  the  chief  leader  in  the  expulsion  of  the 
Acadians  from  their  native  land.  There  were  no  settlers  within  many 
miles  of  the  post,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  had  little  to  do  but 
hunt  game  in  the  vast  pine  forests  adjacent,  or  fish  about  the  falls.  The 
Indians  gave  the  place  a  wide  berth,  and  their  allies,  the  French  officers 
and  Canadian  gentlemen,  who  had  in  earlier  years  reduced  many  a  firm 
New-England  stronghold,  never  looked  upon  the  Sebasticook  fortress. 
Yet  it  was  considered  an  important  point,  fencing  out  the  barbarians  as 
efl'ectually  as  Aurelian's  wall  did  the  Ficts  and  Scots ;  and  the  Province 
kept  a  garrison  of  130  men  here,  under  the  gallant  Captain  Lithgow. 
After  the  conclusion  of  the  Treaty  of  Paris,  in  1763,  the  garrison  was 


> 


Waterville.  39 

withdrawn    down    the    river,   and    the    defences    were    left  to    fall   into 
dilapidation. 

From  the  block-house  the  long  line  of  mills  and  houses  which 
forms  the  front  of  Waterville  comes  into  view,  and  the  train  soon 
sweeps  across  the  Kennebec  on  a  high  bridge,  beneath  which  roar  and 
thunder  the  picturesque  Ticonic  Falls,  among  whose  wave-swept  rocks 
and  ledges  hundreds  of  logs  from  up-stream  are  entangled  and  beaten 
to  pieces. 


WATERVILLE. 


The  city  of  Waterville  is  one  of  the  prettiest  in  Maine,  and  covers  a 
broad  alluvial  plateau  above  the  Kennebec,  its  long  streets  overarched 
with  rows  of  venerable  elms,  making  deep  shadowy  vistas  like  cathedral 
aisles.  On  every  side  extend  the  comfortable  homes  of  a  peaceful  and 
industrious  population,  between  which  the  streets  run  out  to  the  edge  of 
the  country,  and  lose  themselves  among  the  lanes  and  highways  beyond. 
Among  these  tranquil  avenues,  and  far  removed  from  the  busy  district 
of  stores  and  mills,  stands  the  new  Elmwood  House,  a  very  handsome 
and  commodious  modern  hotel,  which  attracts  large  numbers  of  summer 
guests.  There  are  many  pleasant  drives  in  this  favored  region,  and  one 
cannot  go  amiss  if  he  rides  over  to  the  pretty  cascades  at  Oakland 
(West  Waterville),  or  up  to  the  sylvan  seclusion  of  East  Fond,  or 
across  the  hills  by  East  Vassalboro'  to  the  lovely  scenery  of  Webber's 
Pond,  or  down  to  the  broad  lake  of  China  Pond.  The  pleasant  valley 
towns  in  this  region  are  rich  in  fruits,  and  produce  great  quantities  of 
choice  apples  and  berries,  which  are  eagerly  gathered  up  by  buyers 
from  Southern  New  England. 

Waterville  is  about  eighty  miles  from  Portland,  and  here  is  the 
junction  of  the  two  main  tracks  of  the  Maine  Central,  which  traverse 
the  populous  counties  by  widely  distant  routes,  and  unite  here  to  pass 
on  to  Bangor  over  a  single  line.  Hence,  also,  a  branch  road  ascends  the 
valley  to  Skowhegan ;  and  the  Somerset  Railroad  runs  north  (from  West 
Waterville)  to  Norridgewock  and  North  Anson.     It  has  a  population  of 


40  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

about  5,000,  and  received  a  city  charter  in  1883,  in  consequence  of  its 
rapid  and  healthy  growth  as  a  manufacturing  centre.  It  is  not  many 
years  since  the  vast  water-power  of  the  Ticonic  Falls  was  used  only  by 
a  few  country  saw  and  grist  mills.  Now  it  gives  motive  force  to  the 
great  Lockwood  cotton-mills,  with  a  capacity  of  90,000  spindles,  and 
employing  a  thousand  operatives.  Mill  No.  2,  built  in  1882,  and  499 
feet  in  length,  is  one  of  the  best  and  costliest  in  America,  and  has  all 
the  modern  innovations,  electric  lights,  steam-heating,  automatic  sprink- 
lers, and  other  conveniences  and  safeguards.  The  construction  of  this 
immense  building  was  undertaken  on  account  of  the  success  of  Mill  No. 
I,  which  has  been  in  profitable  operation  for  several  years.  Among  the 
other  products  of  Waterville  are  matches  and  shovel-handles.  On  the 
Messalonske  River  is  a  factory  where  water-pails,  washbowls  and  other 
articles  of  indurated  ware  are  made  from  spruce  wood-pulp,  compacted 
by  enormous  pressure,  and  then  polished  and  chemically  hardened  into 
horn-like  firmness. 

Close  to  the  Waterville  station  are  the  pleasant  grounds  of  Colby 
University,  beautifully  shaded  by  lines  of  fine  old  trees,  on  which  stand 
the  college-buildings,  —  Memorial  Hall  on  the  south,  containing  the 
chapel  and  a  library  of  20,000  volumes;  then  the  long  old-fashioned 
brick  dormitories  of  South  College  and  North  College  (Chaplin  Hall) 
with  Champlin  Hall  between  them;  and  on  the  north  the  granite  struct- 
ure known  as  Coburn  Hall,  and  occupied  by  the  scientific  school. 
Back  of  these  is  a  wooded  bluff,  overhanging  the  swift  waters  of  the 
Kennebec,  along  which  extends  the  favorite  ramble  of  the  students,  an 
ancient  and  abandoned  railway  embankment,  hedged  in  with  shrubbery, 
and  extending  beside  the  river  almost  to  Fairfield.  In  the  Memorial 
Hall  is  a  monument  to  twenty  of  the  college  men  who  died  in  the 
Secession  War.  It  is  an  adaptation  of  Thorwaldsen's  great  work  at 
Lucerne,  and  represents  in  marble  a  colossal  dead  lion,  transfixed  by  a 
spear,  and  with  his  paw  resting  on  the  shield  of  the  Union.  The  names 
of  the  dead  are  carved  below.  The  citizens  of.  the  town  who  fell  in  the 
same  dread  conflict  are  commemorated  by  a  martial  bronze  statue  on 
the  broad  green  square  by  the  ancient  academy. 

This  venerable  college  was  chartered  in  1813,  and  opened  in  1818, 
and  has  had  nearly  800  alumni,  many  of  whom  have  attained  fame  as 


Waterville.  4 1 

missionaries  and  teachers.  Two  of  the  chief  of  these  were  George 
Dana  Boardman  and  Benjamin  Tripp,  of  the  class  of  1822,  men  of  high 
courage  and  consecration ;  and  among  the  later  graduates  was  Prof. 
Wilham  Matthews,  now  one  o-f  the  leading  authors  of  the  North-west. 
The  roll  of  the  alumni  also  includes  230  clergymen  and  missionaries, 
158  lawyers,  162  professors  and  teachers,  44  doctors,  and  32  newspaper 
men.  Many  years  ago  Benjamin  F.  Butler  was  a  student  here,  occupy- 
ing a  dull  little  room  on  the  third  floor  of  the  North  College,  and  fight- 
ing penury  and  starvation  in  his  struggle  for  an  education  as  gallantly 
and  cheerfully  as  he  has  since  opposed  other  terrible  adverse  influences. 

The  original  name  of  "The  Maine  Literary  and  Theological  Insti- 
tution "  was  changed,  in  1822,  to  that  of  Waterville  College,  and  in  1867 
to  Colby  University,  in  honor  of  Gardiner  Colby,  of  Boston,  a  generous 
benefactor.  It  is  richly  endowed,  and  has  an  able  staff  of  professors  ;  but 
the  conservatism  of  the  college  is  widely  known,  and  keeps  its  antique 
curriculum  unimpaired  in  an  age  of  drifting  from  the  old  standards. 
The  affiliated  Classical  Institute  near  by  was  for  years  one  of  the  chief 
fitting-schools  of  New  England,  and  a  rival  of  Exeter  and  Andover; 
but  latterly  has  hardly  held  its  own,  having  an  insufficient  endowment 
to  compete  with  the  richer  academies  of  Massachusetts.  Ex-Governor 
Coburn  is  now  erecting,  at  great  expense,  a  very  handsome  and  commo- 
dious new  building  for  the  Institute,  and  a  brilliant  future  is  opening 
for  the  well-famed  school. 

In  the  old  days  Waterville  was  a  noted  steamboat  port,  whence 
five  boats  departed  daily  for  Augusta  and  the  towns  below,  passing 
through  the  dam  by  locks.  The  Waterville  ran  between  Augusta  and 
Waterville  as  early  as  1825,  making  slow  progress  against  the  roaring 
waters.  The  Ticonic  was  put  on  this  route  in  1832;  ascended  the 
Twelve-Mile  Falls  in  Vassalboro'  without  difficulty;  and  was  received 
at  Waterville  by  artillery  salutes  and  colossal  free  lunches.  At  one 
time  there  was  a  great  deal  of  steamboat  racing  on  the  river  between 
Waterville  and  Augusta,  and  scenes  worthy  of  the  Mississippi  were 
enacted  on  these  quiet  waters.  In  1848  the  Halifax  and  the  Balloon 
were  indulging  in  such  a  trial  of  speed,  when  the  boiler  of  the  former 
exploded,  killing  or  wounding  nearly  every  one  on  board,  and  sinking 
the  boat. 


42  Summer  Days  Down  East, 


PITTSFIELD   AND    DEXTER. 

To  the  eastward  of  Waterville,  and  especially  after  leaving  the  fair 
Kennebec  Valley,  and  climbing  up  on  the  great  water-shed,  the  coun- 
try is  less  populous,  and  the  villages  stand  much  farther  apart.  It  is 
fifty-five  miles  from  Waterville  to  Bangor;  and  the  day-express  makes 
the  trip  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  stopping  only  at  Burnham  and  Newport, 
and  rushing  with  lightning  speed  by  the  other  nine  stations.  After  the 
Bangor  train  runs  out  of  Waterville,  leaving  the  ancient  University 
buildings  on  one  side,  it  ascends  the  west  bank  of  the  Kennebec  for 
a  short  distance  through  a  populous  region,  and  crosses  the  great 
river  below  Fairfield.  Beyond  the  quiet  little  station  of  Benton  the 
pretty  village  of  Clinton  is  reached,  in  one  of  the  old  Plj^mouth-Patent 
towns,  settled  as  early  as  1775.  Here  the  line  runs  in  the  valley  of  the 
Sebasticook,  which  is  followed  for  a  dozen  miles,  or  more,  through  long 
highland  clearings,  with  heavy  fringes  ^f  forest  on  either  side,  and  occa- 
sional glimpses  of  the  high  blue  mountains  about  Penobscot  Bay. 

From  Burnham  station  a  branch  railway  loafs  downward  to  the 
south-east,  across  the  dreary  plains  of  Waldo  County,  to  Belfast,  thirty- 
four  miles,  in  two  hours,  crossing  half-a-dozcn  Yankee  farming  towns, — 
Unity,  Thorndike,  Knox,  Brooks,  Swanville,  and  Waldo.  At  Belfast 
(see  Index)  steamboats  may  be  taken  for  the  great  summer  hotel  on 
Fort  Point,  or  the  camp-meeting  grounds  at  Northport,  or  the  ancient 
fortress  of  Castine. 

The  next  station  on  the  main  line  is  Pittsfield,  a  brisk  manu- 
facturing village,  with  mills  which  convert  Maine  wool  into  Scotch 
Cheviot  cloth  under  the  direction  of  canny  old  Scottish  weavers. 
Here  also  is  the  Maine  Central  Institute,  a  well-known  training-school 
for  the  eastern  colleges.  Stages  run  from  this  village  of  the  plain  up 
the  Sebasticook  Valley  to  Hartland,  and  around  great  Moose  Pond  to 
Harmony.  Beyond  the  station  of  Detroit  comes  the  junction  at  New- 
port, in  the  thrifty  village  of  the  same  name ;  and  from  this  point  a 
branch  railroad  runs  northward   fourteen  miles,  over  the  long  plains  of 


Pittsfield  and  Dexter.  43 

Corinna,  to  Dexter,  a  prosperous  and  pretty  village  with  a  line  of  busy 
factories  along  the  downward-pitching  outlet  of  Dexter  Pond.  One  of 
the  eight  local  churches  is  called  the  Barron  Memorial,  in  honor  of  the 
cashier  of  the  bank,  who  was  murdered  by  burglars  while  defending  the 
treasures  in  his  charge.  There  are  many  localities  in  the  environs 
where  the  scenery  is  noticeably  beautiful,  and  summer  travellers  often 
make  Dexter  the  goal  of  their  pilgrimages.  Up  to  within  a  very  few 
years  the  favorite  route  to  Moosehead  Lake  ran  via  Dexter,  whence 
daily  stages  cross  the  hill-towns  on  the  north  to  the  foot  of  the  lake. 

Eastward,  on  the  main  line,  the  train  passes  near  the  great  Newport 
Pond,  and  so  on  down  to  the  lonesome  station  of  Etna,  with  glimpses 
of  the  mountains  of  Dixmont  on  the  south.  The  high  water-shed  of 
the  Kennebec  has  now  been  crossed,  and  the  line  passes  on  into  the 
Penobscot  Valley,  passing  through  Carmel  and  Hermon,  primitive  New- 
England  towns,  where  the  sewing-circle  still  exists  in  all  its  old-time 
glory.  The  great  river  is  struck  at  a  point  below  Bangor,  and  the 
train  runs  up  beside  the  Penobscot,  and  stops  in  the  outer  environs  of 
the  city. 


<^!^^. 


WESTERN   ROUTE  TO   BANGOR, 


Via    LEWISTON    AND    WINTHROP. 


CONSIDERABLE  part  of  this  route  lies  over  the  old 
Androscoggin  and  Penobscot  Railroad,  which  has  been  con- 
solidated with  the  Maine  Central  line,  and  brought  up  to  the 
same  splendid  efficiency  which  characterizes  all  parts  of  that 
great  avenue  of  travel.  It  leaves  the  main  track  at  Cumber- 
^^  land,  eleven  miles  north-east  of  Portland,  and  runs  across  Cum- 
berland County,  a  part  of  the  ancient  province  of  Laconia,  and  of 
Gorges's  domain  of  New  Somersetshire.  After  turning  off  at  Cumber- 
land the  train  runs  to  the  rural  hamlet  of  Walnut  Hill,  whose  red 
farm-houses  are  nestled  deep  among  the  century-old  trees,  between  two 
tall  hills.  Far  away  ahead  blue  ridges  begin  to  appear, — the  videttes 
of  the  wilderness.  Around  the  station  of  Gray  beautiful  flower-beds 
arc  seen,  their  fragrance  and  color  replacing  the  usual  wretched  sur- 
roundings of  American  railway  buildings.  Many  other  stations  on  this 
line  are  adorned  in  a  similar  manner,  and  their  parterres  of  flowers 
afl"ord  pleasant  refreshment  to  passing  travellers.  It  is  about  two  miles 
from  Gray  to  Gray  Corner,  the  chief  village  of  the  town,  on  the  high- 
lands toward  Sebago  Lake.  Here  Simon  Greenlcaf,  the  great  jurist, 
practised  law  from  1S07  to  181 1,  and  laid  the  foundations  of  his  vast 
legal  learning.  The  railway  ascends  the  valley  of  Royal  River,  and  the 
pretty  little  stream  is  seen  dimpling  down  among  the  trees.  A  new 
railroad  line  has  recently  been  surveyed  from  Gray  station  to  Poland 

Spring  and  Mechanic  Fal's. 

(44) 


Aiibiirn  and  Lake- Auburn  Spying.  45 

Up  the  narrowing  valley  rushes  the  train,  and  the  Grand  Trunk  Rail- 
way is  seen  across  Royal  River  on  the  east.  New  Gloucester,  the  next 
station,  is  in  the  broad  town  of  the  same  name,  which  was  granted  to, 
and  settled  by,  people  from  Massachusetts  Gloucester,  about  the  year 
1735.  The  Indians  compelled  its  abandonment  a  few  years  later;  but 
in  1753  the  inhabitants  returned  and  erected  a  strong  and  spacious  log- 
castle,  which  long  served  the  purposes  of  homes,  church,  and  fortress. 
In  later  years  New  Gloucester  became  a  shire-town,  and  this  period 
of  forensic  favor  gave  it  a  certain  distinction  and  elegance  which  still 
remain  among  its  venerable  mansions.  Here  Peleg  W.  Chandler  was 
born ;  and  here  William  Pitt  Fessenden,  the  great  Senator,  passed  the 
days  of  his  youth. 

Beyond  New  Gloucester  the  Maine  Central  and  Grand  Trunk  lines 
slowly  converge,  and  at  Danville  Junction  they  cross  each  other,  one 
route  bearing  away  north-westward  to  Canada,  and  the  former  running 
to  the  north-east,  into  central  and  eastern  Maine  and  the  Maritime 
Provinces.  The  junction  is  in  the  fiftli  ward  of  the  city  of  Auburn,  but 
its  surroundings  are  entirely  rural.  Soon,  however,  the  Little  Andros- 
coggin is  crossed,  and  the  train  halts  briefly  at  the  station  of  Auburn, 
after  which  it  crosses  the  Androscoggin  River,  and  stops  at  Lewiston. 


AUBURN   AND   THE    LAKE-AUBURN 

SPRING. 

Auburn  is  just  across  the  river  from  Lewiston,  and  the  two  cities 
form  a  kind  of  municipal  Siamese  twins,  joined  by  the  important  liga- 
ment of  the  falls.  Auburn,  however,  is  less  metropolitan  than  her 
neighbor,  and  has  but  about  10,000  inhabitants,  with  a  valuation  of 
$5,000,000.  She  has  great  manufactories  of  furniture,  crackers,  and 
bleached  cottons,  but  her  chief  pride  rests  in  shoes,  and  her  ambition 
is  to  be  a  second  Lynn.  Over  a  million  dollars  are  invested  in  this 
industry,  which  engages  one  thousand  five  hundred  men   and  six  hun- 


46  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

dred  women,  out  of  the  two  thousand  five  hundred  operatives  in  the  city. 
The  average  annual  production  of  shoes  is  nearly  five  million  pairs; 
and  the  value  of  the  goods  manufactured  here  every  year  equals  the 
total  valuation  of  the  city.  Auburn  has  neither  castle,  cathedral,  nor 
convent,  but  she  takes  pride  in  the  possession  of  the  public  buildings  of 
Androscoggin  County,  and  in  a  new  and  handsome  high-school,  before 
which  stands  a  bronze  statue  of  its  chief  benefactor.  There  are  also 
half-a-dozen  good  churches,  and  a  Young  Men's  Christian  Association 
building. 

It  is  almost  two  hundred  years  since  Major  Church  came  to  the 
site  of  Auburn,  and  stormed  the  Indian  fort  there,  at  the  head  of  his 
gallant  Provincial  rangers.  As  the  doughty  Puritan  infantry  entered 
the  works  on  one  side,  the  aborigines  fled  out  at  the  other  end,  and 
made  good  their  escape.  Several  Indian  skeletons  have  been  found 
buried  in  this  vicinity,  all  of  them  in  a  sitting  posture,  with  their  war- 
clubs  in  their  hands,  defiant  even  in  death.  Only  a  few  years  after  the 
subjugation  of  the  fort  Massachusetts  colonized  the  region  with  tough 
old  veterans  of  the  Canada  wars,  and  the  dark-skinned  lords  of  the  soil 
retired  without  argument  from  before  these  Cromwellian  Congregation- 
alists.  The  fire  of  the  early  days  survived  long,  for,  in  1861-65, 
Auburn  sent  four  hundred  and  thirty  soldiers  into  the  field,  and  they 
were  more  than  decimated  during  the  long  struggle. 

The  Lake-Auburn  Spring  Hotel  is  about  five  miles  from  the  twin 
cities,  by  a  very  pleasant  stage-road,  which  leads  for  miles  along  the 
shore  of  the  lake.  The  hotel  coaches  connect  with  trains  at  Lewiston 
and  Auburn,  and  run  thence  about  three  miles  to  the  ancient  Baptist 
hamlet  of  East  Auburn,  where  passengers  get  on  board  a  steamboat, 
and  are  carried  across  the  lake  to  the  hotel  (fare  from  Boston  and 
return,  $7;  from  Portland  and  return,  $4,25).  The  mineral  fountain 
which  gives  interest  to  this  locality  is  an  uncommonly  pure  spring 
water,  styled,  in  the  jargon  of  the  chemists,  "  naturally  aerated,  or 
charged  with  carbonic  acid,  oxygen  and  nitrogen  gases,  —  alkaline, 
colorless,  tasteless,  odorless,  sparkling,  and  free  from  any  appreciable 
organic  matter."  It  is  a  soft  water,  naturally  laxative  and  corrective, 
and  has  been  found  very  beneficial  in  diseases  of  the  kidne\s,  liver,  and 
stomach,  as  scores  of  testimonials  in  the  little  pamphlet  sent  out  by  the 


Auburn  and  Lake- Auburn  Spring.  47 

hotel  people  bear  witness.  Not  far  from  the  spring  is  a  commodious 
house,  where  vast  quantities  of  water  are  barrelled  and  sent  away  to  the 
agency  in  Boston,  and  to  patrons  in  distant  cities.  The  hotel  is  a 
modern  and  well-appointed  house,  with  broad  verandas,  beautifull}'' 
situated  on  a  bold  bluff  one  hundred  feet  above  the  adjacent  lake,  and 
nine  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  amid  ancient  groves  of  pines  and  oaks. 
It  commands  an  enchanting  view  down  the  lake  (which  is  four  miles 
long),  and  over  the  distant  blue  hills  beyond,  down  the  Androscoggin 
valley.  The  guests  find  ample  resources  for  pleasure  in  boating  and 
fishing,  in  evening  excursions  to  Harlow's  grove,  and  in  driving 
through  the  beautiful  and  primitive  country  which  surrounds  this 
sequestered  nook.  High  up  above  this  locality,  near  the  hamlet  of 
West  Auburn,  and  five  miles  from  Auburn,  is  the  Grand  View  House, 
which  has  not  }-et  entered  into  the  heritage  of  fame,  but  may  be 
destined  to  a  brilliant  future.  It  is  i,iOO  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
commands  a  view  of  scores  of  mountains  and  lakes,  near  and  far, 
including  even  the  sovereign  peak  of  ]\Iount  Washington.  Connected 
with  it  is  a  very  pure  spring  of  sparkling,  oxygenated,  and  silicated 
w^ater,  valuable  as  a  solvent. 

To  the  northward  is  the  pond-strewn  town  of  Turner,  the  birthplace 
of  the  late  Postmaster-General  Howe,  Senator  Eugene  Hale,  and  other 
eminent  men.  This  remote  hill  town  gave  an  aide-de-camp  and  a  life- 
guardsman  to  General  Washington,  and  a  score  of  soldiers  to  the  Con- 
tinental army,  and  also  three  hundred  and  nineteen  volunteers  to  the 
national  armies  in  the  civil  war.  Minot,  the  little  town  to  the  westward, 
sent  two  hundred  and  six  volunteers  to  the  war,  although  its  chief  citizen, 
William  Ladd,  was  the  founder  of  the  American  Peace  Societ}%  and  the 
pacific  influences  of  the  venerable  Hebron  Academy  had  for  many 
years  been  leavenine  its  vouth. 


48  Summer  Days  Down  East. 


LEWISTON. 

Lewiston  is  one  of  the  brightest  and  most  enterprising  of  the 
manufacturing  cities  of  New  England ;  and  the  incessant  motion  of 
its  machinery,  moved  by  the  swift  waters  of  the  Androscoggin,  makes 
perpetual  industrial  music,  as  it  has  for  more  than  a  century.  For  it  was 
as  early  as  1768  that  the  famous  Pejepscot  proprietors  granted  this  locality 
to  Moses  Little  and  Jonathan  Bagley  (of  Newbury,  Massachusetts),  who 
agreed  to  settle  fifty  families  here  within  six  years.  The  first  three  of 
their  colonists  came  hither  in  1770,  and  set  up  a  mill  at  the  falls  the  same 
season.  In  1774  came  Davis,  the  surveyor  and  shoemaker;  in  1775, 
James  Garcelon,  from  the  Isle  of  Guernsey;  in  1785,  Ames,  the  black- 
smith and  inn-keeper;  and  in  1788,  Read,  the  village  statesman  and 
postmaster.  From  these  small  beginnings  have  arisen  a  city  of  20,000 
inhabitants,  with  a  valuation  of  $10,000,000,  a  dozen  churches,  thirty 
schools,  and  several  newspapers,  one  of  which,  the  Lewiston  jfeurnal, 
takes  rank  among  the  best  products  of  the  American  press.  The  first 
tide  of  immigration  was  composed  of  veterans  of  the  Revolutionary 
War;  the  second,  of  families  who  fled  inland,  in  181 2-1 5,  from  a  sea- 
coast  exposed  to  the  attacks  of  British  cruisers ;  and  the  third,  the 
voluminous  and  increasing  stream  of  French-speaking  people  from 
Lower  Canada,  comJng  hither  to  work  in  the  mills.  A  large  part  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Lewiston  are  French-Canadians,  descendants  of  the 
old  Norman  and  Poitevin  emigres  who  settled  about  Quebec,  —  merry 
and  garrulous  citizens,  with  very  little  of  the  New-England  gravit}^,  but 
a  vast  capacity  for  money-earning  labor.  Their  temporal  interests  are 
maintained  by  a  weekly  newspaper,  Le  Messager,  and  their  spiritual 
welfare  rests  safely  in  the  care  of  a  body  of  French  clergy,  and  under 
the  auspices  of  the  good  St.  Anne.  In  proportion  to  its  population 
Lewiston  has  more  Roman  Catholics  than  any  other  place  in  Maine, 
and  their  chief  shrine  is  the  great  Church  of  St.  Peter,  conducted  by 
Dominican  monks,  and  adorned  by  costly  statues,  imported  from 
France,  and  by  rich  modern  frescoes. 


Lewiston,  49 

Young  as  the  settlement  was,  it  sent  three  good  soldiers  into  the 
armies  of  the  Revolution,  and  into  the  war  of  1812  several  companies, 
one  of  which  was  captured  en  masse  in  the  gunboat  Growler,  on  Lake 
Champlain.  Toward  the  forces  called  out  by  the  United  States  in 
1861-65,  it  gave  1,142  volunteers  and  16  drafted  men,  112  of  whom 
died  in  Maryland,  Virginia,  Louisiana,  and  elsewhere  throughout  the 
red  South.  The  handsome  little  park  in  the  centre  is  adorned  with  a 
bronze  statue  of  a  soldier,  commemorating  the  Lewiston  volunteers 
who  never  came  back  to  Maine.  Looking  down  upon  this  memorial  are 
several  costly  churches,  the  city  hall,  with  its  lofty  Gothic  spire,  and 
the  great  brick  building  of  the  De  Witt  House.  This  locality  is  the 
crown  of  the  civic  pride,  and  intervenes  between  the  mill  district  and 
the  residence  streets,  which  melt  away  into  the  country  outside.  A 
charming  view  of  the  city  and  its  environs,  and  of  the  Androscoggin 
valley  for  many  a  league,  may  be  obtained  from  the  little  mountain 
near  Bates  College,  whose  summit  has  been  reserved  for  an  astronomi- 
cal observatory. 

Begirt  as  they  are  with  mills,  canals,  and  bridges,  the  falls  have 
lost  much  of  their  ancient  natural  beauty;  yet  in  seasons  of  high  water, 
when  vast  bodies  of  water  are  thundering  over  the  stone  dam  and  whiten- 
ing over  the  rocky  islets  and  ledges,  they  afford  a  scene  of  deep  interest 
and  attraction.  There  is  a  very  grim  and  terrible  legend  attached  to 
this  locality,  of  a  war-party  of  hostile  Indians  lured  down  the  river 
by  false  signals  placed  by  white  men,  and  swept  over  the  falls  in  their 
canoes,  to  meet  with  destruction  in  the  raging  white  floods  below.  But 
in  these  happy  practical  days  the  water-nymphs  are  yoke  sisters  of  the 
mill-girls,  and  the  Union  Water  Power  Company,  having  encased  the 
falls  in  bulwarks  of  masonry,  hires  out  their  power  to  the  adjacent 
factories.  Their  province  extends  to  the  distant  Rangeley  Lakes,  where 
vast  dams  serve  to  regulate  in  some  degree  the  supply  of  water  in 
dry  seasons,  making  sure  a  supply  to  the  fifty  busy  water-wheels,  with 
their  6,000  horse-powers.  The  great  cotton-mills,  the  Continental, 
Bates,  Hill,  Androscoggin,  Lewiston,  and  others,  run  400,000  spindles, 
and  use  every  year  13,000  tons  of  cotton.  There  are  also  various 
other  large  factories  in  Lewiston,  and  the  roll  of  operatives  comprises 
4,000     men     and     3,300    women.       The    products    for    1882    included 


50  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

61,000,000  yards  of  cotton  and  woollen  goods  (more  than  enough  to 
belt  the  earth  at  the  equator),  17,000,000  feet  of  long  lumber, 
4,000,000  bags,  72,000  shirts,  and  a  vast  number  of  other  articles. 

In  ample  grounds  above  the  city  rise  the  commodious  buildings 
of  Bates  College,  which  was  founded,  in  1856,  as  the  Maine  State 
Seminary,  and  assumed  its  present  name  seven  years  later,  in  honor  of 
a  generous  patron.  It  is  an  undenominational  Christian  college,  where, 
by  frugality  and  intellectual  industry,  130  young  men  and  women  are 
laying  broad  and  deep  the  foundations  for  useful  lives.  The  tuition 
fee  is  $36  a  year;  and  students  have  gone  through  the  entire  four- 
years'  course  for  $600  each.  Earnest  efforts  are  now  being  made  by 
Edward  Everett  Hale,  Dr.  Duryea,  Stillman  B.  Allen,  and  other 
eminent  Bostonians,  to  increase  the  endowment  of  this  centre  of  light 
and  culture.  The  theological  school  attached  to  the  college  is  the 
chief  supply  of  clergy  for  the  Free-Will  Baptist  Church.  Elsewhere 
in  the  city  is  the  new  Eclectic  Medical  College. 

There  are  many  pleasant  drives  in  this  region  of  hills  and  lakes, 
and  abundant  livery  accommodations  in  the  stables  of  the  two  cities. 
About  three  miles  out,  on  the  river- road,  is  the  Gulf,  where  the 
Androscoggin  rushes  down  a  series  of  rapids  against  a  steep  height 
below,  making  a  very  pretty  sandy  beach,  and  surging  ceaselessly 
against  the  repelling  ledges  above  and  below. 


POLAND    SPRING. 

Poland  Spring,  one  of  the  chief  health-resorts  of  New  England, 
is  reached  by  a  hilly  stage-road  of  3^  miles  from  Lewiston  Junction, 
or  a  longer  (but  still  pleasant)  drive  from  Lewiston  and  Auburn,  over 
the  highlands.  It  is  in  the  picturesque  hill  town  of  Poland,  abounding 
in  ponds  and  ridges  and  other  scenic  charms,  and  commemorating,  in  its 
name,  an  ancient  Indian  chief  of  this  region,  now  long  since  departed 
to  the  kingdom  of  Ponemah. 

The  hotel  is  one  of  the  largest  of  its  class,  with  a  frontage  of  262 
feet,    long   piazzas,    electric    annunciators,   gas-lights,  steam    elevator. 


Poland  Spidng.  5 1 

reading  and  smoking  rooms,  a  colossal  dining-room,  and  all  the  other 
appurtenances  of  a  first-class  American  summer  hotel.  It  is  800  feet 
above  the  sea,  and  commands  an  exquisite  view,  including  the  distant 
spires  of  Lewiston  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  broad  waters  of 
Sebago  Lake,  with  the  noble  peaks  of  the  White  Mountains  beyond. 
The  nearer  lakes  of  Poland  are  included  in  this  panorama  of  beauty,  and 
the  long  ridges  which  stretch  away  toward  the  Androscoggin  valley. 
Within  easy  driving  distance  are  the  quaint  Shaker  villages,  founded 
a  hundred  years  ago,  near  Sabbath-Day  Pond,  and  now  rich  in  well- 
tilled  farms;  the  busy  hamlet  of  Mechanic  Falls,  with  its  manufactures 
of  paper  and  rifles  ;  the  prosperous  twin  cities  of  Lewiston  and  Auburn  ; 
and  the  old  lake-side  haunts  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  in  Raymond. 

The  famous  spring  is  close  to  the  hotel,  through  whose  rooms  its 
waters  are  conducted  in  enamelled  iron  pipes ;  and  alongside  is  a 
building  in  which  vast  quantities  of  the  water  are  barrelled  and  bottled 
for  export,  to  be  sold  in  the  cities.  It  flows  from  a  crevice  in  a  granite 
ledge,  running  about  eight  gallons  a  minute,  and  is  a  colorless  and 
tasteless  alkaline  water,  containing  only  about  four  grains  of  mineral 
matter  (mainly  silica,  and  carbonates  of  lime  and  magnesia)  to  the 
gallon.  Among  the  diseases  which  yield  to  its  gentle  power  are  dys- 
pepsia, Bright's  disease,  gravel,  scrofula,  debility,  dropsy,  and  various 
other  distressing  complaints  of  the  kidneys  and  digestive  organs.  The 
patients  drink  two  full  goblets  of  the  water  five  times  a  day,  and  thus 
in  a  manner  drown  out  their  troubles,  returning  home,  in  many  cases 
(as  attested  by  a  great  number  of  witnesses  in  the  little  pamphlet  given 
away  by  the  proprietors),  quite  cured  of  long  chronic  ailments. 

The  spring  has  belonged  to  the  Ricker  family  since  1792,  and  for 
many  years  enjoyed  a  considerable  local  fame,  which  was  augmented 
by  a  wonderful  cure  performed  on  a  sick  ox  that  was  turned  into 
the  adjacent  pasture  to  die,  but  drank  freely,  and  soon  recovered 
and  grew  so  fat  that  he  passed  under  the  butcher's  knife  as  marketable 
'beef.  Since  that  time,  nearly  twenty-five  years  ago,  the  spring  has 
become  famous  for  its  wonderful  curative  powers.  The  old  stage- 
tavern  of  the  Rickers  began  to  be  visited  by  crowds  of  health-seekers, 
and  a  few  years  later  the  present  immense  hotel  was  built  to  accommo- 
date the  increasing  throngs  of  people  from  the  cities. 


52  Summer  Days  Down  East. 


WINTHROP   AND    LAKE    MARANACOOK. 

As  the  Bangor  train  runs  out  of  Lewiston,  it  follows  the  Andros- 
coggin for  a  while,  and  then  branches  off  across  the  purely  agricultural 
town  of  Greene,  which  was  settled  a  century  ago  by  Massachusetts 
veterans  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  Here  the  hills  attain  a  greater 
height,  and  begin  to  be  called  mountains.  At  Leeds  Junction  the 
Androscoggin  branch  is  crossed,  and  passengers  for  Farmington  and 
the  Rangeley  Lakes  change  cars.  The  next  station  is  in  the  lake- 
bordered  town  of  Monmouth,  the  seat  of  the  great  estate  of  Gen.  Henry 
Dearborn,  who  distinguished  himself  at  the  battle  of  Monmouth  (New 
Jersey)  in  1778.  A  small  and  peaceful  tribe  of  Indians  were  dwelling 
here  when  the  first  settlers  came  in,  but  they  gave  way  in  silence,  and 
retreated  into  the  northern  wilderness.  The  village  near  the  station  lias 
a  small  hotel  and  several  factories.  The  next  station,  six  miles  beyond 
Monmouth,  is  at  VVinthrop,  in  the  heart  of  the  lake  country.  The 
outlet  of  Lake  Maranacook,  descending  steeply  toward  Lake  Annabesa- 
cook,  affords  a  chance  for  Yankee  mills,  and  here  rises  the  village  of 
VVinthrop,  whose  busy  little  woollen  factory  has  been  running  for 
seventy  years,  and  in  1882  received  among  its  laborers  a  large  party 
of  exiled  Russian  Jews.  It  is  now  nearly  120  years  since  Timothy 
Foster  and  his  comrades  settled  here,  "  by  the  great  pond,"  and  were 
saved  from  starvation  only  by  the  game  and  fish  which  they  were 
enabled  to  capture. 

Of  late  years  this  pretty  little  village,  the  Interlachen  of  Maine, 
has  attained  considerable  favor  as  a  summer  resort,  and  the  enlarged 
Winthrop  House  and  the  rural  boarding-houses  have  been  well  filled 
with  people,  who  find  pleasure  in  driving  about  the  beautiful  lake 
region  and  among  the  rich  farms  of  the  hill-country,  prolific  in  hay 
and  apples.  There  was  good  reason  for  the  name  of  Pond-town  Plan- 
tation, which  the  early  settlers  gave  to  this  region  before  the  Revolu- 
tionary War,  for  the  country  is  all  a-smile  with  bright  and  devious 
lakes.     Annabesacook  stretches   away   to    the    southward    for   many  a 


Ji. 


IVmthrop  and  Lake  Maranacook.  53 

shining  mile,  and  contains  one  charming  island,  on  which  many  inter- 
esting Indian  relics  have  been  found.  Indeed,  everywhere  among  these 
fair  ponds  are  signs  and  tokens  of  the  vanished  race,  who  found  here  a 
land  of  joy  and  plenty.  But  of  their  life  and  deeds  not  even  a  dim 
tradition  has  survived.  The  first  immigrants  from  tidewater  Massachu- 
chusetts  found  it  a  deserted  land,  made  ready  for  their  habitation  by 
the  disappearance  of  its  ancient  owners.  Travellers  who  drive  up  to 
the  old  town-house  describe  the  view  thence  as  one  of  peculiar  beauty, 
including  many  a  hill-girt  winding  lake,  with  blue  peaks  far  away  along 
the  horizon,  and  ihe  White  Mountains  low  in  the  western  distance. 

Cobbossee  Contee  Pond,  a  little  farther  eastward,  is  nine  miles 
long,  and  meanders  among  the  fairest  of  grassy  hills,  between  groves 
of  cedar  and  red  oak,  in  the  heart  of  a  purely  rural  and  agricultural 
region.  In  the  calm  cool  waters  about  its  clustered  islets  dwell 
myriads  of  white  perch  and  black  bass,  affording  rare  sport  to  the 
bucolic  fishermen,  and  occasionally  tempting  sportsmen  out  from  the 
not  distant  cities  of  Augusta,  Hallowell,  and  Gardiner. 

Lake  Maranacook  is  about  eight  miles  long,  and  its  crystal  waters 
extend  from  Winthrop  village  to  Readfield,  being  crossed  by  a  railway 
bridge  at  the  narrows.  At  one  of  the  most  charming  points  on  the 
shore  the  railway  company  purchased  about  sixty  acres  of  woodland, 
contiguous  to  the  track,  and  graded  the  ground,  thinning  out  some  of 
the  trees,  and  erecting  a  great  number  of  pavilions,  seats,  dance-halls, 
wharves,  and  other  conveniences  for  the  vast  picnic  armies  which  visit 
the  grove  on  almost  every  pleasant  summer  day.  Until  recently  the 
lake  was  known  as  Winthrop  Pond,  and  it  is  uncertain  whether  its  pres- 
ent melodious  Indian  name  is  a  revival  of  some  long-forgotten  title. 
It  has  already  become  a  synonym  for  pleasure ;  and  no  prettier  sight 
can  be  found  than  the  daily  summer  armies  of  merry-making  thousands 
rambling  through  these  grand  pine  groves  by  the  side  of  the  silvery  lake. 
In  this  delightful  forest  meet  joyous  conclaves  of  myriads  of  merry 
makers.  Gray  veterans  of  the  Grand  Army,  thousands  of  fire-breath- 
ing Land-League  Hibernians,  parishes  of  French  and  Irish  Catholics, 
temperance  camp-meetings,  band  tournaments,  rifle  matches,  Sunday- 
schools,  industrial  brotherhoods,  mystic  secret  societies,  and  all  manner 
of  bands  of  pleasurers.     Here  the  chief  orators  of  Maine  address  their 


54  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

constituencies,  the  strongest  boatmen  compete  for  shining  prizes,  the 
favorite  brass  bands  from  Kennebunk  to  Mattavvamkeag  make  varied 
music,  and  thousands  of  happy  tourists  of  a  day  wander  among  the 
dehghtful  pine  groves.  If  the  woods  are  uncomfortably  warm,  tliere 
are  several  little  steamboats  on  the  lake,  carrying  excursionists  up  and 
down  the  mimic  sea,  amid  great  variety  of  sweet  and  pleasant  scenery. 

Beyond  the  picnic  grove  the  train  rumbles  across  the  lake,  which 
is  followed  for  miles,  on  the  left,  to  the  station  of  Readfield.  The 
lonely  spire  of  Readfield  Corner  rises  at  the  head  of  the  lake,  with 
Mount  Blue  far  away  beyond ;  and  on  the  western  ridge  appear  the 
towers  of  the  Maine  Wesleyan  Seminary  and  Female  College,  at 
Kent's  Hill.  For  nearly  fifty  years  this  school  of  Methodist  prophets 
has  pursued  its  quiet  and  useful  way,  and  it  now  has  more  than  one 
hundred  and  fifty  students.  A  daily  stage  climbs  up  to  it  from  Read- 
field  station,  giving  beautiful  views  over  the  lake  country. 

From  Belgrade  station  stages  run  to  New  Sharon,  passing  Bel- 
grade Mills,  with  its  little  inn  and  Golder's  spool-factory,  where  thirty- 
five  workmen  annually  convert  1,500  cords  of  fine-grained  white  birch 
into  about  35,000,000  spools.  Near  the  Mills  is  a  very  attractive  lake, 
covering  nine  square  miles,  and  dotted  with  an  archipelago  of  islets. 
There  is  a  small  steamer  on  these  secluded  waters,  and  several  boats, 
in  which  the  villagers  and  infrequent  summer  travellers  pursue  the 
bass  and  perch  which  swarm  among  the  islands.  Near  by  is  Rome, 
the  least  of  rural  villages,  yet  not  without  heroes  worthy  of  its  name, 
for  forty  of  its  Yankee  Romans  died  in  the  field  during  the  civil  war. 

Northward  of  Belgrade  station  the  train  soon  reaches  the  shore  of 
Messalonske  Lake,  which  it  follows  for  several  miles  through  a  thinly 
settled  farming  country  to  Oakland  (or  West  VVaterville),  the  terminus 
of  the  railroad  to  North  Anson,  whence  it  descends  to  beautiful 
Waterville,  on  the  Kennebec.  Oakland  is  a  manufacturing  borough, 
rich  in  the  possession  of  the  Messalonske  River,  which,  in  falling 
downward  over  the  edges  of  the  plateau  toward  the  Kennebec  makes 
many  highly  prized  water-powers,  dear  to  Yankee  men.  One  of  these 
is  the  largest  scythe-factory  in  the  world.  Here  our  route  meets  the 
Eastern  Division  of  the  Maine  Central  Railroad,  which  left  it  at  Cum- 
berland, and  a  single  line  runs  hence  eastward  to  Bangor. 


THE    NORTH-WESTERN 
WILDERNESS. 

NORRIDGEWOCK  AND  NORTH  ANSON. 


'T  is  therefore  from  Oakland  and  Waterville  that  one  turns 
northward  toward  the  wilderness,  aided  for  a  few  leagues 
by  the  branch  railways,  and  afterwards  dependent  on  more 
primitive  modes  of  travel.  The  Somerset  Railroad  runs 
north  from  Oakland  across  an  open  rolling  country,  with 
many  comfortable  farms  on  either  side,  and  occasional  fair 
glimpses  of  the  lofty  blue  hills  beyond.  At  Norridgewock  it  crosses 
the  Kennebec,  with  the  brick  house  of  Sophie  May  close  to  and 
below  the  track,  on  the  right,  and  the  venerable  houses  and  great 
trees  of  Norridgewock  beyond.  Several  miles  farther,  on  the  monu- 
ment to  Father  Rasle  is  seen  in  a  broad  field  on  the  left. 

On  this  north  side  of  the  river  sleeps  the  Norridgewock  of  the  past, 
once  the  chief  town  in  all  this  region  of  the  upper  Kennebec,  with  many 
stores  and  a  large  trade,  but  now  a  charmingly  drowsy  old  hamlet,  with 
immemorial  elms  arching  over  its  soundless  street,  and  dignified  old 
gentlemen  rehearsing  the  traditions  of  the  past  among  the  old-fashioned 
gardens.  It  seems  as  near  Sleepy  Hollow  as  a  Yankee  village  can  be, 
and  is  rich  in  quaint  legends.  The  Danforth  and  Tenney  places,  once 
the  homes  of  eminent  Maine  jurists,  and  many  other  great  square 
mansions,  stand  retired  from  the  street,  like  the  homes  of  the  maritime 

(55) 


56  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

aristocracy  of  Portsmouth  and  Newburyport.  At  the  end  of  "the  long 
house  "  is  the  most  famous  tree  in  Maine,  a  grand  willow,  twenty-three 
feet  in  circumference  at  the  base,  said  to  have  sprung  from  a  switch 
stuck  in  the  ground  over  a  hundred  years  ago  by  -a  traveller  riding 
eastward  from  New  Hampshire.  There  are  several  other  interesting 
legends  about  this  venerable  Colossus.  The  great  elm-trees,  the  par- 
ticular pride  of  the  village,  are  believed  to  owe  their  origin  to  a  tree- 
planting  day  many  generations  ago,  announced  from  the  church  pulpit, 

the   minister   stating  that  Squire would   furnish   all   the   saplings 

needed,  and  Brother all  the  rum.     The  old  brick  mansion,  with  its 

great  white  pillars,  built  many  years  ago  by  Cullen  Sawtelle,  member 
of  Congress  from  Maine  in  the  time  of  the  Mexican  War,  has  long  been 
owned  and  occupied  by  Miss  Rebecca  S.  Clarke,  who  has  achieved 
fame  and  competence  as  a  writer,  under  the  pseudonym  of  "  Sophie 
May."  In  this  ideal  home,  earned  by  her  pen,  dwells  the  favorite 
author  of  the  Prudy  Stories,  amid  delightful  grounds,  rich  in  tall 
trees,  rustic  seats  and  arbors,  and  bright  views  of  the  blue  Kennebec. 
Near  by  is  the  house  of  ex-Congressman  Lindsey,  who  married  Sophie 
May's  sister.  The  little  brick  temple,  with  white  pillars,  which  he  uses 
for  an  office,  was  formerly  the  study  of  John  S.  Abbott,  the  eminent 
jurist.  The  old  court-house,  once  the  forensic  centre  of  this  great  forest 
county,  and  the  resort  of  many  famous  lawyers,  is  now  used  only  for  the 
occasional  meetings  of  agricultural  and  temperance  organizations.  Ad- 
jacent is  the  antique  meeting-house,  still  occupied  for  religious  services, 
while  the  lower  floor  serves  as  the  town-hall,  and  the  steeple  is  packed 
with  honey,  and  inhabited  by  myriads  of  bees.  The  men  who  raised 
the  huge  beams  and  braces  in  this  temple  of  civil  and  religious  liberty 
required  the  inspiration  of  "one  barrel  of  good  \V.  I.  rum,  and  one 
hundred  pounds  of  maple  sugar."  The  church  was  once  for  a  week  or 
more  the  retreat  of  grim  Jack  Hale,  the  famous  horse-thief,  who  slept 
very  comfortably  on  the  pew-cushions,  and  drank  up  the  year's  supply 
of  communion-wine,  while  from  time  to  time  he  coukl  hear  the  villagers 
outside  wondering  where  he  was. 

The  business  of  old  Norridgewock  was  very  considerable,  both  with 
the  adjacent  rural  communities  and  with  the  Indians,  who  expended 
the   profits   of  their  arduous   hunting  excursions   in    rum,   beads,   and 


Norridgewock.  57 

trinkets.  A  dozen  stores  lined  the  river  bank,  but  they  have  all  disap- 
peared ;  and  the  two  local  newspapers  which  celebrated  their  activities, 
have  followed  them  into  oblivion.  The  genius  of  modern  enterprise 
recoiled  from  this  dreamland  ;  and  when  some  uneasy  seekers  of  wealth 
erected  various  little  manufactories  here,  they  were  placed  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  river,  near  the  railway  station. 

About  five  miles  above  Norridgewock  is  Old  Point,  a  pleasant  in- 
tervale at  the  confluence  of  the  Kennebec  and  Sandy  Rivers,  an  acre  of 
which  is  fenced  off  around  the  tall  granite  monument  and  cross  which 
Bishop  Fenwick,  of  Boston,  erected  in  1833.  This  little  reservation 
belongs  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  has  been  the  goal  of  many 
pilgrimages  of  the  devout  Indians  of  Eastern  Maine.  In  the  vicinity 
are  occasionally  found  arroiv-heads  and  tomahawks,  and  other  relics ; 
and  it  is  but  a  few  years  since  the  chapel  bell  and  bronze  cross  were 
discovered.  Here  from  the  most  ancient  times  had  stood  a  populous 
Indian  village,  —  the  chief  town  and  capital  of  the  Norridgewock  tribe 
—  near  the  great  cornfields  on  the  adjacent  intervales.  As  early  as  the 
year  16 10,  or  ten  years  before  the  Pilgrims  began  to  massacre  the 
Massachusetts  Indians,  the  French  people  in  Lower  Canada  opened 
communication  with  Norridgewock,  and  founded  a  Christian  mission 
here.  The  last  of  the  missionaries  was  Sebastian  Rasle,  a  Jesuit,  and 
formerly  Greek  professor  in  the  ancient  French  college  at  Nismes,  who 
settled  here  in  1695,  and  prepared  a  dictionary  of  the  Abenaki  language 
(now  at  Harvard  College),  in  which  he  taught  many  of  his  flock  to 
correspond  with  each  other  and  with  him.  Sweet  and  gentle  in  his  man- 
ners, and  charming  in  conversation,  he  won  the  love  of  the  savages,  and 
grounded  them  firmly  in  the  principles  of  his  faith.  The  chapel  was 
the  chief  building  and  the  pride  of  the  village,  and  its  services  were 
attended  by  throngs  of  devout  worshippers.  Thus  consolidated,  and 
guided  by  the  astute  counsels  of  their  aged  pastor,  the  Norridgewocks 
stood  like  a  rock  against  the  advancing  and  aggressive  tide  of  English 
colonization  on  the  south,  and  often  made  successful  and  pitiless  forays 
upon  the  other  settlements.  Finally  the  Provincial  authorities  resolved 
to  annihilate  this  fastness  of  danger,  and  two  successive  military  expe- 
tions,  in  1705  and  1722,  burned  and  pillaged  the  village  and  chapel, 
and  then  swiftly  retreated  down  the  valley  on   snow-shoes.      It  was 


58  Smnmer  Days  Down  East. 

reported  that  Father  Rasle  had  erected  in  front  of  his  church  a  flag- 
staff, bearing  a  superb  consecrated  standard,  emblazoned  with  a  cross 
and  a  bow  and  sheaf  of  arrows,  and  that  this  crusading  flag  was  some- 
times seen  flashing  like  a  meteor  over  the  burning  villages  and  murdered 
colonists  of  Maine.  The  chieftain  of  the  tribe  went  to  Boston,  and  de- 
manded indemnity  for  the  destruction  of  the  church  and  town ;  but 
when  the  authorities  asked  him  in  return  to  take  a  Puritan  minister,  he 
haughtily  turned  away.  In  the  summer  of  1724  a  body  of  two  hundred 
and  eight  soldiers  marched  from  Fort  Richmond  against  the  village,  and 
so  skilfully  was  their  advance  covered  by  Harmon's  Rangers  and  a  body 
of  wary  Mohawk  scouts,  that  Norridgewock  was  surrounded,  and  their 
bullets  began  to  fall  among  the  wigwams  before  they  were  discovered. 
The  aged  Father  Rasle  was  shot  at  the  foot  of  the  village  cross,  while 
endeavoring  to  save  his  people,  and  all  who  failed  to  break  through  the 
line  of  environment —  men,  women,  and  children  alike — were  massa- 
cred. Many  fell  victims  to  the  rangers'  volleys  in  the  river  while 
trying  to  escape  to  the  other  shore ;  and  seven  chiefs,  who  tried  to  pro- 
tect their  pastor  with  their  own  bodies,  were  slain  with  him.  Then  the 
raiders  burned  the  church  and  wigwams,  and  retreated  in  great  haste 
down  the  silent  valley.  The  body  of  the  venerable  priest  was  mutilated, 
and  his  scalp  taken  to  Boston,  where  it  may  still  be  preserved  in  some 
time-blackened  coffer  amid  the  Massachusetts  archives  and  trophies. 

Sixty  years  passed  by,  and  the  remnant  of  the  tribe  returned  no 
more.  After  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  a  little  group  of 
American  veterans  came  into  the  deserted  valley,  and  made  for  them- 
selves farms ;  but  the  fertile  plain  on  which  the  ancient  village  stood 
still  remains  desolate  and  empty,  haunted  by  the  spirits  of  the  hapless 
aborigines.  In  one  of  Whittier's  early  poems  ("  Mogg  Megone"),  the 
village  and  the  massacre  are  described  with  epic  power :  — 

"  And  where  the  house  of  prajer  arose, 
And  the  holy  hymn,  at  daylight's  close, 
And  the  aged  priest  stood  up  to  bless 
The  children  of  the  wilderness, 
There  is  nought  save  ashes,  sodden  and  dank. 

And  the  birchen  boats  of  the  Norridgewock, 

Tethered  to  tree,  and  stump,  and  rock. 
Rotting  along  the  river  bank!" 


North  Anson.  59 

Out  from  this  long  and  level  campagna,  and  from  the  grim  mem- 
ories of  the  New-World  crusades,  the  train  rushes  fast,  and  the  spires  and 
white  houses  of  a  modern  Yankee  town  soon  rise  by  the  riverside. 
Madison  Village  has  some  large  new  woollen  mills,  and  other  signs 
of  prosperous  industry,  and  is  connected  by  a  bridge  with  Anson, 
beyond  the  Kennebec.  The  railroad  crosses  the  river  here,  and  fares 
away  northward  through  the  woods  to  North  Anson,  the  end  of  the 
route,  where  the  Carrabasset  River  enters  the  Kennebec,  and  the  whirl- 
ing currents  and  plunges  of  the  Carrabasset  Falls  afford  interesting 
glimpses  of  river  passion.  North  Anson  is  a  brisk  little  village,  with  a 
Democratic  newspaper,  two  or  three  churches,  and  several  small  fac- 
tories, while  near  the  end  of  the  main  street  is  the  dingy  old  Academy 
where  so  many  successful  men  have  received  their  education.  The 
Carrabasset  River  rushes  merrily  down  through  the  village,  affording  no 
end  of  water-power,  —  that  sovereign  blessing  of  the  Yankee  heart. 
Above  is  the  broad  and  rather  dreary  main  street,  with  its  bazaar-like 
shops,  and  the  offices  of  various  local  dignitaries. 

North  Anson  is  the  most  northerly  railway  station  in  the  Kennebec 
Valley,  and  for  many  years  will  remain  so,  enjoying,  with  Skowhegan, 
the  trade  of  all  the  forest-towns  beyond.  The  local  newspaper  com- 
bats the  proposed  road  from  The  Forks  to  Shirley  with  tremendous 
vigor,  as  tending  to  drain  off  the  Upper  Kennebec  trade  to  Bangor. 
From  the  main  street  of  the  village  magnificent  blue  mountains  are 
seen  all  along  the  western  horizon,  and  running  northward  far  towards 
Canada.  Prominent  among  these  are  the  nine  high  peaks  in  New  Vine- 
yard, —  a  wild  and  picturesque  town,  which  was  settled,  about  ninety 
years  ago,  by  people  from  Martha's  Vineyard.  The  soil  is  not  so  bad 
as  might  be  inferred,  and  the  chief  village  has  several  busy  factories  ; 
but  the  population  of  the  town  has  been  diminishing  for  many  years, 
ever  since  the  prairie  fever  struck  into  Maine. 

At  North  Anson  is  the  only  factory  in  the  world  for  making 
wooden  shanks  wherewith  to  support  the  soles  of  shoes  in  the  curve 
between  the  heel  and  ball.  Here  the  butts  of  silver  and  white  birches 
and  white  maples  are  sliced  and  boiled,  and  split  and  squeezed  into 
the  proper  shank  form,  after  which  they  are  bundled  together  in  great 
numbers,  and  sent  down  the  valley. 


6o  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

It  is  twelve  miles  from  North  Anson  to  the  rich  farming  town  of 
Starks,  on  Sandy  River;  twelve  miles  to  Industry,  a  decaying  hill-town, 
with  four  churches  and  600  inhabitants;  twelve  miles  to  Skowhegan,  or 
Norridgewock ;  twenty  miles  to  Brighton ;  and  thirty-six  miles  to  The 
Forks.  A  stage  leaves  daily  for  Solon,  eight  miles  up  the  river,  where 
connection  is  made  with  the  stage  from  Skowhegan  to  The  Forks. 

One  can  drive  from  North  Anson  to  Quebec  in  three  long  days 
(the  distance  being  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles),  the  last  fifty  miles 
being  through  an  almost  continuous  village  of  prolific  French  Cana- 
dians, with  many  a  tall  stone  church  sacred  to  the  saints  of  Rome. 


EUSTIS   AND    FLAGSTAFF. 

Forty-eight  miles  north-west  of  North  Anson,  by  a  road  leading 
up  the  beautiful  intervales  of  the  Carrabasset,  is  the  secluded  hamlet  of 
Eustis  Mills,  on  the  Dead  River;  and  six  miles  beyond  Kennedy 
Smith's  farm,  by  a  buckboard  road,  is  the  famous  Tim  Pond,  only 
about  a  mile  square,  but  fairly  alive  with  small  trout,  which  attract 
sportsmen  from  cities  hundreds  of  miles  away.  There  are  comfortable 
cabins  on  the  shore,  and  boats  on  the  water.  Twelve  miles  farther  into 
the  wilderness,  and  within  twenty  miles  of  Canada,  lie  the  renowned 
Seven  Ponds,  the  ultima  tJmle  of  the  trout-fisher,  with  their  swarms  of 
gamy  and  delicious  trout.  Here,  also,  are  boats  and  camps  for  the  use 
of  sportsmen,  under  the  care  of  Smith,  the  path-finder.  Now  and  then 
a  small  herd  of  deer  may  be  seen  coming  down  to  the  ponds,  on  a  still 
morning,  to  drink ;  and  of  other  and  smaller  game  the  wide  and  moun- 
tainous forests  all  around  are  full. 

This  region  of  mountains  and  lakes  may  also  be  reached  by  way 
of  Farmington  and  Kingfield,  although  good  accommodation  for 
staging  is  found  at  Brown's,  in  North  Anson.  The  former  road  ascends 
the  Carrabasset  Valley  from  Kingfield,  and  then  crosses  the  highlands 
by  a  very  rough  and  arduous  route,  after  which  there  is  a  final  stretch 
of  ten  miles  of  admirable  road,  aff'ording  very  grand  views  of  Mount 
Bigelow  and  its  sister  peaks. 


n 


Dead  River  and  Flagstaff.  6 1 

The  road  from  North  Anson  passes  through  North  New  Portland,  one 
of  three  little  factory  hamlets  in  a  township  which  was  granted  to  the 
people  who  suffered  by  the  British  naval  bombardment  of  Portland  in 
1775.  It  has  no  fewer  than  six  churches,  to  a  declining  population  of 
about  1 ,200  souls.  Beyond  is  Dead  River  Village,  twenty-seven  miles  from 
North  Anson,  and  here,  at  Parsons's  inn,  one  can  get  boats  and  supplies  to 
ascend  the  river  to  Flagstaff  and  Eustis,  with  a  portage  around  the  pict- 
uresque Hurricane  Falls.  Dead  River  Plantation  has  about  lOO  inhabi- 
tants, mostly  of  the  Methodist  persuasion,  and  sent  twelve  stalwart 
soldiers  into  the  civil  war.  Here  we  are  on  the  route  of  Benedict  Arnold's 
expedition  against  Quebec,  and  can  ascend  the  north  branch  of  Dead 
River  for  a  dozen  miles  (with  only  one  short  carry,  at  Ledge  Falls),  to 
the  Chain  Ponds,  whence  the  way  is  short  across  the  frontier,  and  down 
to  Lake  Megantic  and  the  Chaudiere  waters.  The  territory  between 
Dead  River  and  Eustis  belongs  to  Flagstaff  Plantation,  a  patriotic  little 
Methodist  settlement  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Bigelow,  whose  great  granite 
peaks  rise  to  a  height  of  3,300  feet,  and  form  a  landmark  for  all  Western 
Maine.  Near  the  river  Arnold  encamped  for  three  days,  and  from  a 
tall  flagstaff  (whence  the  name  of  the  plantation)  beside  his  tent  dis- 
played the  new-born  American  flag. 

The  descent  of  Dead  River,  from  Eustis  to  The  Forks,  is  a  difficult 
journey  of  over  fifty  miles,  with  carries  at  Ledge,  Hurricane,  Long,  and 
Grand  Falls  (the  latter  being  twelve  miles  below  Dead  River  Village), 
and  almost  continuous  rapids  from  Grand  Falls  for  eighteen  miles 
below,  A  carry  of  about  a  mile  leads  from  Long  Falls  to  the  seques- 
tered and  rarely  visited  waters  of  Long  Pond,  under  Flagstaff  Mountain. 


SKOWHEGAN    AND    SOLON. 

Returning  to  the  Maine  Central  line,  the  favorite  route  to  the  upper 
Kennebec  region  may  be  entered  upon.  It  is  about  forty  mitiutes'  ride 
(nineteen  miles)  from  Waterville  to  Skowhegan,  the  route  running 
across  the  well-named  town  of  Fairfield,  famous  for  its  fine  cattle,  and 
dotted  with  small  manufacturincf  hamlets.     There  are  beautiful  views  of 


62  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

the  Kennebec  close  at  hand  on  the  right,  whose  many  curves  are  fol- 
lowed by  the,  track,  with  the  gentle  slopes  of  Clinton  on  the  farther 
shore.  Just  before  reaching  the  end  of  the  journey,  the  train  crosses 
the  deep  gorge  of  the  Kennebec  on  a  graceful  iron  bridge.  The  rail- 
road ends  at  the  brisk  and  prosperous  manufacturing  village  of  Skow- 
hegan,  which  has  4,000  inhabitants,  five  churches,  a  newspaper,  and 
other  public  institutions  befitting  the  capital  of  great  Somerset 
County.  The  chief  local  treasure  is  the  water-power  afforded  by  the 
Kennebec,  which  descends  twenty-eight  feet  in  half  a  mile,  amid  huge 
masses  of  rock  and  frowning"  black  ledges,  sweeping  stormily  around  a 
great  island,  and  foaming  away  through  a  deep  cafion  beyond. 

Skowhegan  is  now  one  of  the  most  enterprising  and  prosperous  of 
Yankee  towns,  and  bids  fair  to  become  an  important  manufacturing 
centre.  The  Coburn  woollen-mill  has  recently  doubled  its  capacity  of 
production  ;  large  shoe-shops  have  been  transferred  here  from  Lynn,  and 
employ  nearly  five  hundred  persons;  and  many  other  manufactories  are 
thriving  on  the  grand  water-power  of  the  Falls.  Much  of  this  new  pros- 
perity is  due  to  the  enterprise  of  Abner  Coburn,  ex-Governor  of  Maine, 
a  man  worth  seven  million  dollars,  and  owning  vast  forest  townships  in 
this  State  and  in  Oregon.  His  spacious  and  comfortable  home  is  in  the 
outskirts  of  the  village,  which  was  originally  settled,  in  1792,  by  his 
father,  coming  from   Massachusetts. 

The  long  village  street,  full  of  semi-rural  activity,  contains  many 
commodious  and  well-stocked  stores,  from  which  the  chief  supplies  of 
fifty  northern  towns  arc  drawn;  for  this  is  the  metropolis  of  the  upper 
Kennebec,  and  for  long  lines  of  townships  toward  Moosehead  Lake ; 
and  many  a  heavily-laden  farm-wagon  rumbles  out  hence  over  the  rural 
roads  to  the  homesteads  in  the  distant  valleys.  Down  by  the  river  are 
clusters  of  mills,  rattling  and  thundering  and  clattering,  and  daily  in- 
creasing the  wealth  of  the  happy  little  town.  There  are  two  large  and 
commodious  modern  hotels  on  the  main  street,  where  wayfarers  meet 
with  comfortable  accommodations.  Among  the  latest  undertakings  of 
this  secluded  and  enterprising  people  is  the  Skowhegan  &  Athens  Rail- 
road, a  narrow-guage  line  northward  a  dozen  miles,  across  the  rugged 
town  of  Cornville,  to  Athens,  a  pretty  little  village,  toward  Moosehead 
Lake. 


Skowhegan  and  Solon.  63 

There  are  two  routes  between  Skowhegan  and  Solon,  one  of  them 
running  through  the  hamlet  of  Madison  Mills,  and  the  other  crossing 
the  long  heights  of  Robbins  Hill,  from  which  magnificent  views  are 
gained  of  the  distant  Mount  Blue  range,  Mounts  Bigelow  and  Abraham, 
and  the  remote  azure  crest  of  Moxie  Mountain,  up  by  The  Forks  of  the 
Kennebec.  From  either  of  these  roads  frequent  glimpses  are  given  of 
Madison  Pond  (or  Hayden  Lake),  a  league  long,  and  affording  a 
favorite  excursion  point  for  the  busy  Skowheganites. 

The  most  expeditious  route  from  Boston  to  The  Forks  is  by  taking 
the  night  train  (at  7  P.M.),  which  reaches  Skowhegan  at  about  7.30  in 
the  morning,  or  but  a  little  time  after  the  hour  when  the  stage  usually 
starts,  and  if  there  is  a  party  of  half  a  dozen,  the  stage  will  wait  for 
them,  being  duly  notified.  The  travellers  reach  The  Forks  by  supper 
time,  and  can  press  on  still  farther  toward  Moose  River  before  dark. 
Or  they  can  go  to  Skowhegan  by  the  day  train,  rest  there  all  night, 
purchase  their  supplies,  and  take  the  stage  in  the  morning.  This  route 
is  preferable  to  that  from  North  Anson,  as  it  ensures  one  a  seat  in  the 
stage.  The  distance  from  .Skowhegan  to  The  Forks  is  forty-six  miles, 
one  of  the  longest  stage  rides  in  New  England  ;  but  with  a  fair  day  and 
a  good  seat  no  great  fatigue  need  be  experienced. 

Solon  is  a  very  pretty  white  village,  built  on  a  terrace  high  above 
the  Kennebec,  and  conspicuous  from  points  leagues  away,  like  some  of 
the  old  hill-towns  of  Palestine.  Here  Fall  Brook  descends  rapidly 
from  the  plateau  down  to  the  Kennebec,  between  deep-cut  banks  of 
slate,  with  many  a  picturesque  cascade  and  miniature  cafion.  The 
village  is  remarkably  clean,  bright,  and  quiet,  and  contains  numerous 
pleasant  old-time  mansions  and  farm-houses,  where  dwell  the  descend- 
ants of  the  bold  pioneers  who  came  hither  more  than  a  century  ago. 
The  population  is  steadily  diminishing,  and  is  one-third  less  than  it  was 
thirty  years  ago  ;  but  the  remnants  of  the  old  families  still  cling  to  their 
ancient  homesteads,  and  cherish  the  memories  of  their  kinsmen  far 
away  on  the  Western  prairies,  or  out  on  the  Pacific  slope. 

The  population  is  purely  American,  and  its  chief  subsistence  is 
derived  from  agriculture.  About  a  mile  above  the  village  are  the  Car- 
ritunk  Falls,  where  the  Kennebec  plu;iges  over  long  and  abrupt  ledges 
of  jagged  rocks,  amid  clouds  of  spray  and  never-silent  roaring.     A  mile 


64  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

or  so  south  of  the  village,  the  road  to  North  Anson,  after  passing  a 
dainty  little  Boston  villa,  crosses  the  Kennebec  by  a  singular  chain- 
ferry,  and  climbs  the  green  highlands  of  Embden.  Near  the  centre  of 
Solon  village  is  a  spacious  white  inn,  where  occasional  summer  guests 
are  found  enjoying  the  unconventional.  It  is  sixty  miles  hence  to 
Moosehead  Lake,  by  an  arduous  and  hilly  road  through  Brighton,  or 
somewhat  farther  by  the  easier  Athens  route. 

On  the  opposite  shore  is  the  unfortunate  town  of  Embden,  with  a 
scattered  and  decreasing  population  of  about  700,  and  a  tax  rate  double 
that  of  Boston.  When  the  Somerset  Railroad  was  being  built,  Embden 
subscribed  for  $45,000  worth  of  its  stock;  but  the  line  stopped  short 
before  entering  the  township,  and  the  unhappy  farmers  were  left  to  pay 
for  what  they  never  received.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  for  the 
town  to  default  its  bonds,  and  in  the  future  it  must  face  repudiation  or 
ruin.  Solon  was  saved  from  a  like  fate  by  the  stubborn  resistance  of  a 
single  citizen  ;  and  Anson  issued  upwards  of  $120,000  worth  of  railroad 
bonds,  which  have  dragged  heavily  on  the  town  for  years. 

The  stage  bowls  northward  merrily  from  Solon,  with  frequent  pleas- 
ant views  over  the  valley,  and  in  eight  miles  it  reaches  Bingham, 
where  the  horses  are  taken  out,  and  travellers  are  given  a  chance  to 
partake  of  a  homely  and  hearty  dinner  at  the  village  inn.  Here  is  the 
last  telegraph  station  in  the  valley,  and  several  small  stores  give  an 
appearance  of  commercial  activity  to  the  broad  rural  street.  There  are 
also  some  small  manufactories  here,  on  the  little  stream  which  runs 
down  from  the  hills  and  out  across  the  rich  alluvial  meadows  to  the 
Kennebec.  The  town  derives  its  name  from  William  Bingham,  of 
Philadelphia,  who  purchased  a  million  acres  of  land,  covering  forty 
townships,  in  this  region,  in  the  year  1793.  The  tract  had  originally 
been  sold  to  Gen.  Knox,  the  Secretary  of  War,  who  transferred  it  to  his 
friend,  Mr.  Bingham.  This  gentleman  died  in  England  some  years 
later,  and  his  agent,  John  Black,  managed  the  property  for  the  estate 
until  1856.  One  of  Bingham's  daughters  married  Alexander  Baring, 
the  famous  London  banker,  who  subsequently  became  a  peer  of  the 
realm,  under  the  title  of  Lord  Ashburton,  and  was  engaged  with 
Daniel  Webster  in  settling  the  north-eastern  boundary  of  the  United 
States. 


Arnold's  Expedition.  65 

The  next  stopping  place  northward  is  Carney's  Hotel,  in  the  town 
of  Moscow,  which  received  its  name  in  the  year  when  the  Russians 
destroyed  their  greater  Moscow.  Across  the  stream  appears  the 
Carrying  Place,  where  Arnold's  army  left  the  Kennebec,  and  began 
their  dreary  march  through  the  horrible  jungles  toward  the  frontier. 
Relics  of  the  expeditionary  force  are  found  here  from  time  to  time, 
and  traditions  of  the  great  march  are  still  current  in  the  valley. 
In  August,  1775,  the  American  generals  planned  to  send  Schuyler's 
army  from  New  York  into  Canada,  while  Benedict  Arnold  should  lead 
a  force  of  picked  men  through  the  vast  Maine  wilderness  to  strike 
Quebec.  Accordingly,  Col.  Arnold  marched  from  the  Continental  camp 
at  Cambridge,  to  Newburyport,  where  he  embarked  his  force  and 
sailed  to  the  Kennebec,  and  up  that  river  to  Fort  Western  (Augusta). 
At  Norridgewock  they  had  great  difficulty,  and  were  obliged  to  carry 
their  cumbrous  batteaux,  with  supplies  and  stores,  for  a  mile  and  a  half 
around  the  falls,  and  most  of  their  provisions  were  spoiled.  During 
the  last  few  days  of  the  advance  up  the  Kennebec,  the  stream  grew 
so  shallow  and  rapid  that  the  men  were  obliged  to  wade  most  of 
the  way,  pushing  and  pulling  the  batteaux.  On  reaching  the  Carry- 
ing Place,  where  the  long  portage  to  Dead  River  begins,  the  army 
went  into  camp,  only  950  men  still  remaining  with  the  colors. 
The  next  fifteen  miles  lay  across  the  frowning  ridges  to  the  west- 
ward, and  through  numerous  morasses  and  ponds.  The  batteaux  were 
drawn  by  oxen,  and  the  soldiers  carried  the  provisions  and  supplies  on 
their  shoulders;  and,  finally,  after  incalculable  trials,  the  boats  were 
launched  on  the  placid  reaches  of  the  Upper  Dead  River,  in  the 
splendor  of  the  mid-autumn  days,  and  advanced  toward  Lake  Megantic. 
The  force  encamped  three  days  at  the  foot  of  a  snowy  peak,  which 
Major  Bigelow  painfully  ascended,  hoping  to  see  thence  the  distant 
towers  of  Quebec.  The  mountain  still  bears  his  name.  Suddenly  a 
tremendous  storm  swept  the  valley,  destroying  many  boats,  with  their 
contents,  and  reducing  the  army  to  sore  straits.  The  rear-guard,  under 
Roger  Enos,  deserted,  and  re'turned  to  civilization  ;  but  the  main  force 
waded  upward  through  the  frozen  streams,  crossed  the  lofty  water- 
shed, launched  their  battered  vessels  on  Lake  Megantic,  and  Arnold 
and  fifty-five  men  descended  the  foaming  Chaudfere  for  seventy  miles  to 


66  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

Sertigan,  a  French-Canadian  settlement,  whence  they  sent  back  pro- 
visions to  the  main  body,  where  the  troops  had  been  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  eating  roots,  dogs,  and  boiled  moccasins.  After  thirty-two 
days  in  the  wilderness  the  entire  army  emerged  at  Sertigan,  whence 
they  marched  as  rapidly  as  possible  against  Quebec,  appearing  at  the 
heights  of  Point  Levi  in  a  driving  snow-storm,  while  the  drums  were 
beating  to  arms  in  the  Gibraltar  of  the  North.  A  few  days  later,  the 
invading  force,  reduced  to  750  men,  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence  in  birch- 
canoes,  and  advanced  along  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  until  fired  upon  by 
the  fortress-guns.  The  rest  is  known,  —  the  siege,  the  desperate  assaults, 
and  the  final  repulse.  This  noble  expeditionary  force  was  an  army  of 
young  men.  Arnold  was  but  35  years  old,  and  under  him  were  the 
gallant  youths  Aaron  Burr,  afterwards  so  famous  and  infamous ;  Henry 
Dearborn,  afterward  Secretary  of  War,  and  Commander  of  the  Northern 
Department  in  the  War  of  1812;  Daniel  jMorgan,  the  Virginia  rifle- 
man, one  of  Washington's  favorite  officers ;  Judge  Henry,  of  Pennsyl- 
vania; Christopher  Greene,  of  Rhode  Island,  the  hero  of  Fort  Mercer; 
Return  J.  Meigs,  long  afterwards  famous  in  the  settlement  of  the  West ; 
and  other  young  fathers  of  the  Republic. 

Carney's  Hotel  is  owned  and  kept  by  a  sturdy  Yankeeized  Irish- 
man, who  has  a  large  patronage  in  summer,  from  sportsmen  and  trout- 
fishers.  About  three  miles  distant,  near  the  foot  of  Moxie  Mountain, 
is  Decker  Pond,  celebrated  for  its  great  depth  and  its  gamy  fish,  small 
colonics  of  which  populate  the  outlet  stream  for  over  a  mile.  From 
Carney's,  also,  many  persons  visit  Carrying-Place  Pond,  crossing  the 
Kennebec  at  Briggs's  Ferry,  and  going  through  the  forest  for  three  or 
four  miles.  It  is  a  beautiful  woodland  water,  reflecting  the  great  trees 
and  the  blue  sky  in  its  pellucid  depths,"  haunted  by  the  weird  cries  of 
loons,  and  often  visited  by  thirsty  deer.  There  are  plenty  of  fish  here, 
and  noble  sport  has  been  found  in  fishing  down  the  outlet  to  the 
Kennebec.  Others  go  in  from  Carney's  to  Pleasant-Ridge  Ponds, 
beyond  the  frowning  highlands  on  the  west  of  the  river. 

Above  Carney's  the  road  runs  close  beside  the  Kennebec,  and  for 
a  great  part  of  the  way  to  The  Forks  is  built  on  artificial  terraces,  cut 
out  of  the  sides  of  the  environing  hills,  and  almost  overhanging  the 
rushing  stream  far  below.     As  the  sta<je  swings  around  these  curvinsz 


The  Forks.  67 

galleries,  with  dense  green  thickets  overarching  on  both  sides,  and 
the  unbroken  savagery  of  nature  all  about,  the  ride  becomes  highly 
exhilarating,  and  the  pure  and  bracing  air  of  the  highlands  fills  the 
valley  like  an  elixir. 

"And,  stretching  out,  on  either  hand, 
O'er  all  that  wide  and  unshorn  land, 

Slumbers  the  mighty  wilderness! 
The  oak,  upon  the  windy  hill, 

Its  dark  green  burthen  upward  heaves; 
The  hemlock  broods  above  its  rill, 
Its  cone-like  foliage  darker  still, 

Against  the  birch's  graceful  stem  ; 
And  the  rough  walnut-bough  receives 
The  sun  upon  its  crowded  leaves, 

Each  colored  like  a  topaz  gem ; 

And  the  tall  maple  wears  with  them. 
The  coronal  which  autumn  gives,  — 

The  brief,  bright  sign  of  ruin  near, 

The  hectic  of  a  dying  year !  " 

Over  this  road,  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  pass  thousands  of 
French-Canadians,  on  their  \va)^  to  the  harvest-fields  of  Maine,  bivouack- 
ing by  the  wayside  when  evening  comes,  and  at  dawn  faring  on  towards 
the  populous  lowlands.  For  many  years  these  annual  processions  of 
peaceful  invaders  have  marched  down  the  Canada  Road,  in  search  of  the 
Yankee  farmers'  acceptable  dollars. 


THE  FORKS,  AND  THE  CANADA  ROAD. 

At  last  the  low  hills  break  down  on  either  side,  the  glen  widens 
and  grows  more  populous,  and  in  front  appears  the  great  white  hotel 
at  The  Forks,  where  a  hearty  supper  awaits  the  tired  and  hungry  riders. 
Here,  where  the  Dead  River  comes  in  from  the  south-west,  and  meets 
the  Kennebec,  is  a  hamlet  of  about  a  hundred  inhabitants,  with  two  or 
three  small  stores  and  a  school-house.  It  is  the  merest  dot  of  Yankee 
civilization,  amid  a  wilderness  of  virgin  forests  and  shadowy  mountains. 


68  Stmimer  Days  Down  East 

and  the  guides  and  lumbermen  who  congregate  in  the  capacious  office 
of  the  hotel  tell  many  a  fascinating  story  of  the  silent  leagues  beyond. 
The  view  from  the  house  is  full  of  placid  beauty,  and  the  night-hours 
are  lulled  by  the  ceaseless  murmur  of  the  rapid  Kennebec,  which  is  here 
upwards  of  two  hundred  feet  wide. 

Within  a  few  miles  of  The  Forks  are  a  dozen  forest-bound  ponds, 
famous  in  the  annals  of  angling,  and  well-known  to  the  old  rangers  who 
frequent  the  hotel.  About  twenty-five  miles  to  the  north-east,  up  the 
rapid  and  turbulent  Kennebec,  is  Moosehead  Lake.  The  Legislature 
has  been  petitioned  to  build  a  road  across  from  The  Forks,  by  Moxie, 
to  Shirley,  near  the  foot  of  Moosehead  Lake,  which  would  bring  this 
secluded  region  into  more  direct  railway  communication  with  the  outer 
world.     The  distance  is  not  far  from  twenty  miles. 

Moxie  Pond,  which  is  about  ten  miles  long,  is  reached  by  a  five- 
mile  road  from  The  Forks,  and  here  stand  two  or  three  neat  camps,  one 
of  which  pertains  to  a  hospitable  Georgian.  At  its  outlet  are  the  pine- 
shaded  Caribou  Narrows,  and  many  a  stately  caribou  may  be  seen 
drinking  from  the  lake  above.  There  are  other  narrows  cutting  across 
the  blue  waters  ;  islands,  also,  and  reefs,  and  navigable  tributary  streams, 
in  whose  cold  depths  the  gamiest  of  fish  await  the  angler's  lure.  On  the 
outlet,  and  but  a  short  drive  from  The  Forks,  are  the  famous  Moxie 
Falls,  where  the  stream  gives  a  noble  leap  of  nearly  a  hundred  feet,  over 
dark  and  frowning  cliffs.  Or,  if  one  drives  down  the  Skowhegan  road 
nine  miles,  and  there  turns  off  on  a  rugged  road  to  the  eastward,  in 
three  miles  he  will  reach  the  crystalline  Pleasant  Pond,  famous  for  the 
delicious  flavor  of  its  trout.  From  the  little  settlement  here,  the  road 
is  prolonged  four  miles,  to  Mosquito  Pond,  close  to  Moxie. 

But,  remote  and  sequestered  as  The  Forks  appears,  it  is  metropolitan 
in  comparison  with  the  alleged  plantations  farther  out  on  the  Canada 
Road.  A  public  vehicle  leaves  The  Forks  three  times  a  week  for 
Hilton's  inn,  in  Sandy  Bay  township,  whence  Canadian  stages  descend 
through  the  townships  of  Quebec  on  the  north.  At  The  Forks  the 
Kennebec  River  is  crossed  on  a  massive  little  covered  bridge,  and  the 
road  for  three  miles  beyond  is  steep  and  arduous,  until,  after  ascending 
i,ioo  feet,  it  emerges  on  a  high,  cold  plateau,  with  grand  mountain 
views  on  every  side.     Outside  tiiis  little  civilized  band  of  road  the  vast 


Parlifi  Pond.  69 

sea  of  forests  sweeps  around  for  scores  of  leagues,  dark,  still,  and  awe- 
inspiring,  as  when  the  Pilgrims  first  landed  in  Plymouth  harbor.  Fall- 
ing away  from  the  open  plateau,  the  road  enters  vast  overarching  woods, 
through  which  it  burrows  on  until  broader  horizons  appear  at  Parlin 
Pond,  fifteen  miles  from  The  Forks.  Here  stands  the  United-States 
custom-house,  guarding  the  frontier  in  this  direction,  and  critically  ob- 
serving the  imports  of  Canadian  ponies.  Here,  also,  is  a  snug  tavern, 
separated  from  the  pond  by  a  broad  intervale,  and  occasionally  visited 
by  sportsmen.  The  pond  is  fully  three  miles  long,  and  its  clean,  sandy 
bottom  affords  homes  for  many  colonies  of  trout,  for  which  the  casual 
visitor  angles,  aided  by  the  boats  and  guides  furnished  at  the  hotel. 
Five  miles  beyond  is  Adams'  tavern,  from  whence  roads  and  trails  lead 
to  the  famous  Parlin-Pond  dam,  and  Long  Pond  (four  miles).  Nine 
miles  from  this  forest-hostelry,  and  thirty  miles  from  The  Forks  (still 
on  the  Canada  Road),  is  the  important  settlement  of  Moose-River  Vil- 
lage, with  a  couple  of  taverns,  mills,  stores,  and  several  scores  of  inhab- 
itants. If  any  one  wants  to  see  desolation  intensified,  let  him  keep  on 
fourteen  miles  further  on  the  Canada  Road,  through  vast,  unbroken  forests, 
to  the  township  of  Sandy  Bay,  which  is  half  surrounded  by  the  rugged 
mountain  ranges  of  the  Canadian  frontier,  and  has  a  population  of  two 
families.  But  the  wisest  course  for  the  sportsman  and  the  lover  of  nature 
is  to  engage  guides  and  boats  at  the  village,  and  enter  the  adjacent  laby- 
rinth of  ponds  and  streams,  amid  whose  tranquil  solitudes  fish  and  game 
and  rest  are  found,  and  telegraphs  are  not.  Close  by,  on  the  west,  is 
the  island-dotted  expanse  of  Wood  Pond,  several  miles  long,  and 
with  the  gallant  home  of  a  farmer  at  its  head.  The  stream  above  broad- 
ens out  into  other  ponds,  and  finally  into  the  picturesque  and  charming 
Attean  Pond,  irregular,  island-strewn,  and  overlooked  by  vast  and  lonely 
mountains.  A  road  one  mile  long  leads  from  its  western  bay  to  Holeb 
Pond,  whence  one  may  descend  Moose  River  for  twenty-seven  miles, 
with  occasional  carries  around  the  falls,  and  finally  drift  out  again  into 
Attean  Pond.  Men  of  Boston  who  have  made  this  romantic  journey 
return-to  it  again,  year  after  year,  with  great  joy  in  the  infinite  restful- 
ness  of  thus  drifting  down  the  forest-aisles,  sleeping  at  night  the  pro- 
found sleep  of  physical  weariness,  and  eating  heartily  of  the  products 
of  their  skill  with  the  rod  and   ^\xn. 


70  Stmifner  Days  Down  East. 

It  is  a  long  and  interesting  journey  from  Moose-River  Village  to 
Moosehead  Lake,  down  the  Moose  River.  Seven  miles  of  smooth 
water,  overhung  by  vast  elms,  lead  to  Long  Pond,  a  very  beautiful 
sheet  of  water,  ten  miles  long,  with  rocky  islands,  far-projecting  capes, 
and  graceful  bays  enough  for  a  miniature  Mediterranean,  and  fish 
enough  for  all  the  Fridays  of  a  century.  There  are  two  or  three  log- 
houses,  with  attendant  clearings,  on  this  lovely  lake.  It  is  less  than 
ten  miles  thence  down  the  stream,  with  occasional  carries  around  dams 
and  rapids,  to  Brassua  Lake,  whose  outlet  runs  into  Moosehead  Lake 
in  about  four  miles. 


THE   RANGELEY   LAKES. 


THE    LOWER  ANDROSCOGGIN   VALLEY. 


HE  railroad  line  that  runs  from  tide-water  toward  the  Range- 
ley  Lakes  begins  at  Bath,  and  runs  thence  by  Brunswick  and 
Leeds  to  Farmington,  a  distance  of  seventy-two  miles.  It 
was  built  under  the  names  of  the  Androscoggin  Railroad, 
and  the  Leeds  and  Farmington  Railroad,  and  now  forms  a  divis- 
^^  ion  of  the  Maine  Central  line.  The  chief  point  on  this  route  is 
Lisbon  Falls,  a  right  busy  manufacturing  village,  with  the  great  VVo- 
rumbo  woollen  mills,  and  other  industrial  hives.  Here  is  another  for- 
midable cascade  on  the  Androscoggin,  where  the  Indians  found  many 
fish,  and  doubtless  enjoyed  life  in  their  grim  way.  As  early  as  the  year 
1650  Thomas  Purchas  established  a  fish-house  here,  and  sent  hence  to 
London  many  a  snug  little  cargo  of  smoked  salmon.  Near  this  point, 
six  miles  above  the  falls,  was  the  chief  village  and  capital  of  Sebenoa, 
the  wise  sachem  of  the  Indian  tribe  which  occupied  the  lower  Andros- 
coggin valley,  and  hither  (in  1607)  came  Capt.  Gilbert,  nephew  of 
the  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England,  with  nine  men.  He  was  cordially 
received  here  by  fifty  well-armed  warriors,  who  might  easily  have  de- 
stroyed the  little  band,  but  preferred  to  give  them  the  hospitalities  of 
the  town. 

A  few  miles  beyond  Lisbon,  at  Crowley's,  a  branch  railway  diverges 
to  Lewiston,  running  across  to  the  bright  Androscoggin. 

(71) 


72  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

The  Farmington  train  passes  northward  across  the  ridgy  town  of 
Webster,  a  stronghold  of  Baptists  ;  and  beyond  the  httle  factory  village  of 
Sabattusville  it  follows  the  shore  of  Sabattus  Pond,  a  pretty  lakelet  of  sev- 
eral miles'  length.  At  Leeds  Junction  the  back  route  of  the  Maine 
Central  Railroad  is  crossed.  Most  travellers  to  the  Rangeley  Lakes  come 
up  from  Portland  on  this  route,  passing  through  Lewiston,  and  change 
cars  at  Leeds  Junction  for  Farmington.  The  line  runs  north,  through 
the  immensely  long  town  of  Leeds,  for  upwards  of  ten  miles,  in  which  it 
stops  at  three  stations,  each  with  its  saw-mill  and  dull  little  hamlet. 
Among  the  highlands  of  Leeds  Gen.  O.  O.  Howard  and  his  gifted 
brothers  were  born. 

As  the  train  rushes  on  through  the  rather  lonely  country,  the 
beautiful  expanse  of  Androscoggin  Pond  appears  on  the  right,  sparkling 
in  the  sunshine,  and  a  mile  or  more  away.  Beyond  it  looms  the  long 
plateau  of  Quaker  Ridge,  which  commemorates  an  ancient  Quaker 
society  of  Leeds,  now  long  since  moribund.  This  land  of  venerable 
farm-houses  and  lovely  rural  landscapes  is  becoming  somewhat  popular 
as  a  summer-home  for  Bostonians,  some  scores  of  whom  come  hither 
every  season.  By  and  by  the  five-mile  expanse  of  Androscoggin  Pond 
fades  away  on  the  eastward,  and  the  hvelier  waters  of  the  Androscoggin 
River  appear  on  the  other  side,  close  at  hand.  The  route  lies  through  that 
happy  farming  country  which  the  Indians  called  Rokomeka,  "  the  great 
corn  land,"  and  where  some  of  the  most  valuable  patrician  cattle  and 
horses  of  Maine  have  been  raised.  On  the  left  the  Livermore  Falls  are 
seen,  whitening  over  long  ledges,  close  to  a  pretty  little  manufacturing 
village.  Here  are  the  Umbagog  Pulp  Mills,  provided  with  copious 
water-power  from  a  massive  new  dam  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet 
long  and  eighteen  feet  high,  and  grinding  up  great  numbers  of  logs  into 
pulp,  from  which  a  superior  grade  of  paper  for  newspapers  is  made. 
The  daily  production  is  several  tons,  and  the  paper  takes  printing-ink 
better  than  paper  made  from  rags.  There  are  several  other  hopeful 
little  factories  here,  and  during  the  decade  between  1870  and  18S0  the 
town  gained  nearly  eighty  inhabitants.  This  region  was  granted  by 
Massachusetts,  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  ago,  to  some  of  her  gallant 
veterans  of  the  wars  against  Port  Royal ;  and  about  twenty  years  later 
Deacon  Elijah  Livermore  moved  in,  and  built  the  first  mill.   His  comrade 


Liver  more  and  jfay.  73 

in  the  wilderness  was  Major  Thomas  Fish,  who  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  entirely  satisfied  with  the  Deacon  as  a  life-long  mate,  since  he 
became  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  fair  damsel  in  the  town  of  Winthrop. 
His  hopes  of  domestic  joy  amid  the  glens  of  the  Androscoggin  were 
doomed  to  a  fatal  ending,  for  on  a  savage  winter  day,  while  returning 
from  a  precious  visit  to  his  betrothed,  the  Major  was  overwhelmed  by  a 
snow-storm,  and  perished  miserably  in  the  vast  and  lonely  forest. 

This  town  was  the  cradle  of  the  celebrated  Washburn  family,  the 
six  sons  of  Israel  of  that  ilk,  of  whom  were  Elihu  B.,  long  time  a  Con- 
gressman, and  known  as  "  the  watch-dog  of  the  U.S.  Treasury,"  and 
afterwards  Minister  to  P'rance ;  Charles  A,  Minister  to  Paraguay; 
General  Cadwallader  C,  for  many  years  a  Congressman,  and  a  brilliant 
officer  in  the  Mississippi  campaigns;  Israel,  Jr.,  for  ten  years  in  Con- 
gress, and  sometime  Governor  of  Maine;  William  D.,  Surveyor-General 
of  Minnesota;  and  Samuel  B.,  a  naval  officer  in  the  civil  war.  These 
sturdy  men  have  recently  built,  in  their  old  home,  a  handsome  Memorial 
Library,  of  Hallowell  granite,  in  Gothic  architecture.  On  an  adjacent 
farm  was  born  (in  1809)  Hannibal  Hamlki,  for  over  a  score  of  years  a 
Congressman  or  Senator,  Vice-President  of  the  United  States  from  1861 
to  1865,  and  recently  Minister  to  Spain.  Governor  Hunton.  General 
Learned,  Editor  E.  B.  Haskell  (of  the  Boston  Herald),  and  Dr.  Cyrus 
Hamlin,  the  celebrated  missionary,  were  also  born  in  this  nursery  of 
heroes  and  statesmen. 

The  scenery  in  this  region  is  rich  in  quiet  pastoral  beauty,  and 
amid  the  pure  air  of  the  high  hills  men  grow  to  a  great  age,  living 
peaceful  and  contented  lives  of  honest  toil.  The  track  follows  the 
dimpling  Androscoggin  northward,  with  broad  expanses  of  emerald 
meadow,  overlooked  b)''  very  noble  and  picturesque  mountains,  and 
enters  the  town  of  Jay,  which  was  granted  by  Massachusetts,  under  the 
name  of  Phips-Canada,  to  sixty-four  veterans  of  the  French  war  of 
1755.  In  1795  it  was  named  in  honor  of  John  Jay,  the  Revolutionary 
statesman,  at  that  time  Governor  of  New  York.  It  is  a  rugged  town, 
dominated  by  the  green  heights  of  Spruce  Mountain,  but  producing 
large  crops  of  corn,  grain,  and  fruits.  At  Jay  Bridge  is  a  large  factory, 
where  great  quantities  of  sweet  corn  and  apples  are  packed  in  cans,  for 
exportation.      A  daily  stage   runs  from   North   Jay  station  (famous   for 


74  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

its   granite   quarries)    to   Dixfield,   fifteen    miles   up   the    Androscoggin 
valley,  near  the  august  peak  of  Aunt  Hepsy  Brown's  Mountain. 

The  next  station  is  Wilton,  a  mile  and  a  quarter  from  the  village 
of  the  same  name,  with  its  three  churches  and  half-dozen  factories,  all 
in  a  picturesque  little  glen  under  a  wooded  hill.  Daily  stages  run  from 
the  station  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  north-westward,  across  the  bold 
Carthage  hills,  and  down  into  the  pretty  hamlet  of  Weld,  close  to 
Webb's  Pond  (a  noble  lake,  seven  miles  long),  and  almost  under  the 
shadow  of  Mount  Blue.  The  cosey  tavern  here  has  been  well-recom- 
mended. Ten  miles  beyond  is  the  mountain-girded  town  of  Byron  ;  and 
another  ten  miles  leads  to  Camp  Bema,  at  the  foot  of  Mooselucmaguntic 
Lake.  The  next  station  beyond  Wilton  is  East  Wilton,  a  pretty  village 
on  a  rushing  brook,  with  four  snug  little  churches  to  defend  the  adjacent 
farmers  against  the  assaults  of  Satan  and  his  hosts.  Not  long  after 
leaving  this  rural  station  the  landscape  broadens  and  grows  more 
charming.  Among  the  hills  on  the  right  is  the  village  of  Farmington 
Falls,  beautifully  situated  in  an  amphitheatre  of  hills,  bending  around 
the  sinuous  river,  and  near  the  tomb  of  Jotham  Sewall,  the  Apostle  of 
Maine,  and  the  ancient  fortress  and  cemetery  of  the  Canibas  Indians. 
Beyond  West  Farmington  the  track  makes  a  broad  curve  around  and 
across  the  lonely  intervales  of  Sandy  River,  where  the  red  men,  in  the 
long-past  centuries,  had  their  corn-fields,  and  many  a  Minnehaha  and 
Nokomis  watched  the  growing  of  the  golden  grain. 

"  And  the  maize-field  grew  and  ripened. 
Till  it  stood  in  all  the  splendor 
Of  its  garments  green  and  yellow, 
Of  its  tassels  and  its  plumage, 
And  the  maize-ears  full  and  shining 
Gleamed  from  bursting  sheaths  of  verdure." 


FARMINGTON. 


High  on  the  bluff  across  these  emerald  fields  rise  the  spires  and 
towers  of  Farmington,  a  little  Athens  in  the  backwoods;  and  after 
rumbling    on     a    wide    semicircular    trestle    across    Sandy    River,    and 


Farmington.  75 

entombing  itself  in  a  cavernous  railway-station,  the  train  finally  stops, 
at  the  head  of  broad-gauge  navigation.  High  overhead  is  the  village, 
the  capital  of  Franklin  County,  the  seat  of  its  two  newspapers,  and  the 
location  of  twoscore  small  factories, —  named  "farming-town,"  or 
Farmington,  on  account  of  "the  goodness  of  its  soil  for  agriculture." 
The  streets  on  the  plateau  are  bordered  with  long  lines  of  shade-trees, 
back  of  which,  across  fragrant  gardens  of  old-fashioned  flowers,  are  the 
neat  homes  of  the  villagers.  Two  or  three  of  the  churches  are  of 
considerable  architectural  beauty.  There  are  two  hotels  here,  the 
Stoddard  and  the  Marble,  where  many  travellers  have  found  fair 
accommodations  while  bound  in  to  the  lakes  beyond.  In  and  near  the 
village  are  several  noted  schools,  chief  of  which  is  the  Little  Blue 
School,  occupying  the  picturesque  estate  where  Jacob  Abbott  dwelt 
when  he  wrote  those  charming  classics  of  our  childhood's  days,  the 
Rollo  books.  For  nearly  forty  years  this  school  has  been  under  the 
charge  of  Mr.  A.  H.  Abbott,  and  hundreds  of  men,  now  gray  with  age, 
remember  fondly  the  glens,  and  dells,  and  ponds  about  the  old  school, 
and  the  rich  exotic  tulip  and  magnolia  trees  which  perfume  the  summer 
air.  Elsewhere  is  the  modern  brick  building  of  the  Western  Normal 
School,  where  the  old  science  with  a  new  name,  pedagogy,  is  taught, 
under  the  arching  trees  of  Main  Street. 

Among  these  peaceful  scenes  lived  for  many  years  Jacob  Abbott, 
whose  sixty  volumes  of  books  for  the  young  endeared  him  to  all  juve- 
nile America ;  and  his  brother,  John  S.  C.  Abbott,  the  biographer  of 
the  Napoleons.  Lilian  Nordica  (Norton),  the  favorite  soprano  of  Paris 
and  St.  Petersburg,  is  a  native  of  Farmington,  and  a  granddaughter  of 
Camp-meeting  John  Allen.  This  flower  of  the  Sandy-River  valley  is  not 
yet  twenty-five  years  old  ;  but  she  has  dined  with  the  Czar  of  Russia, 
and  now  receives  $12,000  a  year  at  Paris. 

The  orchards  of  Farmington  are  famous  for  their  great  productive- 
ness, and,  besides  the  quantities  exported  in  barrels,  70,000  gallons  of 
canned,  and  eighteen  or  twenty  tons  of  evaporated,  apples  are  put  up 
here  yearly.  A  still  more  important  product  is  sweet  corn,  which  attains 
greater  perfection  here  than  anywhere  else  in  the  United  States.  Hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  cans  are  put  up  yearly  in  the  factories  of  Farm- 
ington, whence  they  are  sent  out  to  all  parts  of  the  world.     There  are 


76  Simimer  Days  Down  East. 

seventy  corn-canning  establishments  in  Maine,  whose  product  exceeds 
10,000,000  cans  yearly,  besides  immense  quantities  of  succotash.  The 
corn  is  picked  and  husked  at  early  morning;  cut  from  the  cob  by  a  ma- 
chine ;  boiled  in  sealed  cans  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  opened  to  let  the 
gas  escape,  and,  finally,  re-soldered.  Not  satisfied  with  these  precious 
products  of  their  happy  valley,  the  inhabitants  claim  that  there  is  gold  in 
the  bed  of  Sandy  River,  and  that  a  few  grains  of  the  royal  metal  may  be 
found  in  every  panful  of  earth.  Sometime  the  Argonauts  may  return 
to  the  old  Pine-Tree  State,  and  find  bonanzas  among  her  noble  hills. 

It  is  a  very  pleasant  drive  down  the  river  by  Farmington  Falls  to 
New  Sharon,  a  distance  of  nine  miles  (daily  stages).  The  river  runs 
through  a  devious  course  of  eight  miles  between  the  Falls  and  New 
Sharon,  with  rich  meadows  and  farm-lands  on  either  side,  and  high  blue 
hills  beyond.  It  has  been  likened  to  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut,  for 
its  rich  and  tranquil  pastoral  scenery.  There  is  very  good  boating  on 
all  this  long  reach  of  quiet  water;  and  the  local  tradition  stoutly  claims 
that  the  first  screw  steamboat  in  the  world  was  invented  here,  by  Mr. 
Beard,  and  ran  upon  this  stream.  New  Sharon  is  a  lovely  village,  on 
both  sides  of  Sandy  River,  near  broad  corn-bearing  meadows,  much  of 
whose  product,  transmuted  into  money  and  given  to  the  adventurous 
youth  of  the  valley,  has  gone,  as  a  chronicler  dryly  says,  "to  develop 
new  towns  and  States  in  the  West."  •  A  stately  and  far-viewing  hill  near 
by  bears  the  singular  name  of  Cape  Cod,  in  memory  of  its  early  settlers, 
who  came  from  that  sandy  and  sea-girt  right  arm  of  Massachusetts. 
This  town  was  the  birthplace  of  George  Dana  Boardman,  the  Apostle 
to  the  Karens,  who  founded  his  great  missions  in  Burmah  as  early  as  the 
year  1827.  A  daily  stage  runs  out  from  New  Sharon  for  sixteen  miles, 
through  the  wonderful  lake  country  of  central  Maine,  to  Belgrade,  on 
the  Maine  Central  Railroad. 

Another  stage- route  leads  northward  across  the  hills  from  Farming- 
ton  to  remote  Eustis,  high  up  on  the  Dead  River,  passing  through  the 
mountain  towns  of  New  Vineyard,  New  Portland,  and  Kingfield.  It  is 
twenty-two  miles  from  Farmington  to  North  Anson,  by  a  good  road, 
leading  through  several  high  mountain-passes.  Another  beautiful  drive 
passes  through  the  pleasant  village  of  Temple,  to  the  great  lake  (Webb's 
Pond)  in  Weld.     All  this  lovely  valley  of  Sandy  River,  with  its  ramparts 


Strojtg  and  Phillips.  77 

of  blue  peaks  and  its  hamlets  of  sturdy  and  intelligent  New-Englanders, 
affords  a  worthy  rambling-ground  for  summer  idlers  and  seekers  after 
picturesque  variety  in  life  and  manners.  From  the  streets  of  Farming- 
ton,  Mount  Blue  appears  in  full  majesty  in  the  near  north-west ;  and  from 
Powder-Horn  Hill,  above  the  village,  an  exquisite  view  is  given  for  dim 
leagues  up  and  down  the  valley. 

Five  miles  out,  in  the  town  of  Industry,  is  Clear  Water  Fond,  cover- 
ing a  thousand  acres,  and  girdled  with  forests,  which  curve  gracefully 
around  many  a  snug  little  cove,  shadowing  cool  waters  in  which  trout 
are  fabled  to  attain  a  weight  of  fifteen  pounds.  About  the  same  distance 
from  Farmington,  and  also  a  favorite  drive,  is  the  Rainbow  Cascade,  a 
very  charming  little  fall,  fifty  feet  high,  on  a  sequestered  forest-stream, 
where  the  rainbows  play  with  the  deep  shadows  of  the  thronging  maples. 


STRONG   AND    PHILLIPS. 

The    Sandy-River   Railroad. 

The  quaintest  of  narrow-gauge  railroads,  apparently  hardly  more 
than  a  toy,  runs  from  Farmington,  for  nineteen  miles  up  the  Sandy 
River,  to  Phillips.  The  line  and  its  stations  and  rolling-stock  have  cost 
about  $150,000,  and  the  annual  running  expenses  amount  to  $io,ooo. 
The  gauge  is  twenty-four  inches,  and  the  little  cars  have  but  a  single 
seat  on  each  side  of  the  aisle.  The  ride  is  full  of  interest  and  beauty, 
for  the  woods  are  on  more  intimate  terms  with  this  tiny  line  than  with 
its  broader  lowland  brethren,  and  bend  down  closely  and  curiously  over 
the  way.  On  one  side  is  the  rapid  river,  with  graceful  sandy  beaches 
and  broad  reaches  of  pebbly  strand  ;  and  across  the  valley  loom  the 
conspicuous  peaks  of  the  Mount-Blue  range.  The  train  rushes  merrily 
onward,  over  high  and  rattling  trestles,  up  steep  grades,  and  around 
sharp  curves,  until  one  wonders  what  keeps  it  to  the  track,  and  would 
hardly  feel  surprise  to  see  it  swing  off  independently  up  the  mountain 
side;  At  almost  every  cross-road  it  makes  a  brief  stop,  while  some 
stalwart  farmer  gets  on  or  off,  and  then  it  speeds  away  with  new  vigor 


78  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

up  the  glen.  Occasionally  the  imposing  form  of  Mount  Abraham  ap- 
pears on  the  far  front,  gliding  ghost-like  over  the  trees ;  and  soon  the 
train  slows  up  at  the  pretty  white  village  of  Strong,  on  the  great  bend  of 
the  Sandy  River,  and  between  two  immense  hills.  It  is  a  hopeful, 
energetic,  enterprising  little  place,  with  the  usual  quota  of  small  factories 
and  smaller  churches;  and  its  citizens  claim  for  it  (whether  rightly  or 
not)  the  honor  of  having  been  the  birthplace  of  the  Republican  party. 

Another  fact,  of  which  Strong  should  be  proud,  is  that  here  was  born 
Elizabeth  Akers  Allen  (Florence  Percy),  the  poet,  whose  exquisite  song 
of  "  Rock  me  to  Sleep  "  has  been  sung  all  round  the  world. 

Adventurous  mountaineeers,  who  want  to  look  over  the  Maine 
wilderness  from  the  top  of  Mount  Abraham,  may  drive  out  eight  or  ten 
miles  to  Salem,  whence  the  ascent,  four  miles  long,  can  be  made  in 
three  hours.  The  summit,  3,387  feet  above  the  sea,  is  covered  with 
long  moss,  and  affords  an  unimpeded  and  magnificent  outlook. 

Beyond  Strong  the  track  is  carried  across  the  Porter  Stream  on  a 
long  bridge,  and  then  winds  upward  along  the  hill-sides,  with  lovely 
views  of  the  glens  below,  and  the  high  green  peaks  across  the  valley. 
Finally  it  makes  a  dash  at  Sandy  River,  crosses  it  triumphantly  on  a 
rattling  lattice-bridge,  and  stops  at  the  end  of  the  line, —  the  inex- 
pensive statian  of  Phillips.  The  traveller  who  has  left  Boston  at  8.30 
or  9  in  the  morning,  and  lunched  at  Portland,  gets  to  this  point  at 
about  7  in  the  evening;  spends  the  night  here,  and  leaves  a  little  before 
8  next  morning  on  the  stage,  and  dines  at  Rangeley.  Phillips  is  a 
lively  town  of  1,400  inhabitants,  with  various  manufactures,  and  a  large 
country  trade,  a  brace  of  churches,  a  sparkling  newspaper  (  The 
Phillips  Phojiograph) ,  and  environing  miles  of  fertile  farms.  Favored 
by  its  attractive  scenery,  and  still  more  by  its  excellent  hotels,  it  is  fast 
becoming  a  summer  resort  of  some  celebrity.  The  Barden  House  is  a 
large  old-fashioned  country  inn,  near  the  centre  of  the  village ;  and 
farther  out  on  the  main  street  stands  the  Elmwood,  a  thoroughly  first- 
class  house,  kept  by  Theodore  L.  Page,  of  Boston.  The  only  difficulty 
widi  this  quaintly  luxurious  little  hotel,  one  of  the  best  in  all  rural  New 
England,  is  that  the  demand  for  rooms,  throughout  the  summer,  largely 
exceeds  the  supply.  Brook  trout  abound  in  the  streams  near  Phillips, 
to  lure  the  sedentary  sportsman ;    and  a  valuable  and  highly-flavored 


Rangeley  Lakes.  79 

sulphur  spring  near  the  village  gives  relief  to  victims  of  rheumatism. 
Travellers  in  search  of  natural  phenomena  may  drive  to  the  Sandy-River 
Falls,  in  Madrid,  or  to  the  Mammoth  Rock,  —  a  wonderful  boulder,  three 
or  four  miles  out;  or  to  the  deep  glens  in  the  neighboring  plantations; 
or  they  can  ride  to  within  a  mile  of  the  top  of  Mount  Blue,  and  ascend 
the  path  to  the  crest,  2,804  ^^^t  above  the  sea,  where  stands  a  signal 
station,  commanding  a  view  as  far  as  the  ocean,  and  along  the  White- 
Mountain  range. 

Greenvale  and  Rangeley  are  respectively  seventeen  and  twenty-one 
miles  from  Phillips,  on  Rangeley  Lake,  and  the  stage  leaves  betimes  in 
the  morning,  passing  through  the  hamlet  of  Madrid,  not  far  from  Mount 
Abraham,  and  surrounded  with  valuable  spruce  forests.  Beyond,  from 
the  lofty  summit  of  Beech  Hill,  a  spur  of  Saddle-back,  2,500  feet  above 
the  sea,  a  magnificent  view  is  gained  ;  and  then  the  road  descends  rapidly 
into  the  great  Rangeley  Basin,  passing  between  the  Sandy-River  Ponds, 
the  head  of  this  important  tributary  of  the  Kennebec,  and  the  trout- 
haunted  Long  Pond,  the  source  of  the  Androscoggin.  Two  miles  from 
the  latter  the  stage  draws  up  at  Greenvale,  near  the  steamboat-pier 
and  head  of  navigation  on  these  inland  waters. 


THE    RANGELEY    LAKES. 

High  up  on  the  plateau  of  North-western  Maine,  at  an  elevation  as 
great  as  that  of  the  head-waters  of  the  Mississippi,  are  the  famous 
Rangeley  Lakes,  the  fountains  of  the  Androscoggin  River,  and  the 
favorite  fishing-ground  of  New  England.  For  forty  or  fifty  years 
thousands  of  gentlemen,  who  love  the  gentle  art  of  dear  old  Izaak 
Walton,  have  frequented  these  beautiful  mountain-tarns,  enwalled  with 
primeval  forests,  gemmed  with  em.bowered  islands,  and  connected  by 
many  a  silvery  stream  with  remoter  recesses  of  the  wilderness,  amid  the 
haunts  of  bear,  deer,  and  moose.  Over  the  crystalline  waters  several 
odd  little  steamboats  ply  back  and  forth,  and  the  light  cedar  boats  of 
the  foresters   skim   up   and   down,  bearing  enthusiastic  knights   of  the 


So  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

rod  and  line.  Among  the  bordering  woodlands  dwell  Mahng,  the  loon, 
Opechee,  the  robin,  Shuh-shuh-gah,  the  heron,  and  Adjidaumo,  the 
squirrel,  with  Mokwa,  the  great  bear ;  and  in  every  camp  along  the 
shore  lives  lagoo,  the  great  story-teller.  In  the  exquisitely  clear  waters 
is  the  chosen  abode  of  the  salmo-fontina/is,  classed  by  Agassiz  with  the 
ordinary  brook-trout,  but  sometimes  attaining  a  weight  of  eight  or  ten 
pounds  each.  From  the  highest  of  the  lakes  the  plateau  falls  off  to 
the  south-west  in  a  series  of  vast  terraces,  down  to  the  muddy  levels 
of  Umbagog,  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  below,  yet  more  than  twelve  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  sea;  and  everywhere  the  scenery  is  wild,  aboriginal, 
and  primitive,  and  worthily  echoes  the  ponderous  polysyllabic  names 
which  the  long-extinct  barbarians  bestowed  upon  these  happy  hunting- 
grounds.  With  every  returning  season  larger  and  larger  companies  of 
tired  city  men  come  up  to  these  restful  solitudes  to  drink  in  the  blessings 
of  the  pure,  sweet  air,  and  to  lure  the  gamy  trout  from  their  coverts  in 
the  deep  pools.  There  comes  a  time,  in  our  fierce  American  summers, 
when  with  poor  old  Falstaff  we  ^'  babble  o'  green  fields,"  and  then  it  is 
pleasant  to  seek  these  sylvan  heights,  far  away  in  the  virgin  wilderness. 
As  Shakespeare,  in  the  gloomy  old  Globe  Theatre  of  London,  dreamed 
of  the  moonlight  on  the  Avon,  and  Wordsworth  could  see  the  solemn 
arches  of  Tintern  Abbey  across  the  smoky  streets  of  the  British 
metropolis,  and  Daniel  Webster  at  W^ashington  beheld  with  his  spiritual 
eves  the  blue  sea  beating  along  Marshfield  beach,  so  thousands  of 
weary  merchants  and  professional  men  in  our  cities  stop  in  their  labors, 
from  time  to  time,  and  in  fancy  look  over  the  dimpling  wavelets  of  the 
Rangeleys  and  hear  the  wild  cry  of  the  northern  loon. 

The  clang  of  the  metropolitan  fire-bells,  the  ceaseless  tinkle  of  the 
horse-cars,  the  maddening  click  of  the  ticker,  and  the  thousand  noises 
of  the  city,  are  replaced  here  by  soothing  and  primeval  melodies, — 
Minnewawa,  the  sound  of  the  wind  in  the  trees,  and  Mudway-aushka, 
the  lapping  of  the  waves  on  the  shore,  in  the  Moon  of  Strawberries, 
or  the  Moon  of  Falling  Leaves.  It  is  a  time  and  place  in  which 
to  avoid  the  excitements  of  the  urban  Heralds  and  Journals  and 
Tribunes,  and  to  dream  over  the  woodland  achievements  of  Hiawatha, 
the  illuminated  wanderings  of  Thoreau  and  Winthrop,  and  the  racy 
Munchausen  stories  of  the  lake  guides.     After  fifty  weeks  of  treadmill 


Range  ley  Lakes.  8i 

life  in  our  brick  and  brownstone  cities,  the  yearning  for  Nature's  freedom 
breaks  out  in  the  cry,  ''I  go  a-fishing,"  even  although  the  vacation 
tourist  may  share  Josh  Billings'  rueful  experience:  "There  are  plenty 
of  two-pound  trout,  but  I  always  manage  to  get  there  about  ten  days 
too  late."  The  limpid  atmosphere  is  unchangeable,  and  Thoreau  says 
that  the  very  air  of  Maine  is  a  diet-drink.  It  is  a  liquid  food  that  costs 
nothing,  a  beef-iron-and-wine  tonic  that  is  imbibed  with  every  inspira- 
tion, an  aerial  Apollinaris  Spring  covering  hundreds  of  cubic  miles. 
Starr  King  calls  lakes  embodied  sympathies,  and  Goethe  sees  in  them 
the  eyes  of  the  landscape.  Whittier,  the  poet  of  New-England  nature, 
found  that  by  such  sweet  waters  as  these,  — 

"  Life's  burdens  fall,  its  discords  cease, 
I  lapse  into  the  glad  release 
Of  Nature's  own  exceeding  peace. 

"The  western  wind  hath  Lethean  powers, 
Yon  noon-day  clouds  Nepenthe  showers, 
The  lake  is  white  with  lotus-flowers." 

Four  hours  after  leaving  Phillips  the  stage  pulls  up  at  Greenvale, 
at  the  head  of  Rangeley  Lake,  where  there  is  a  comfortable  inn,  with 
carriages  and  boats  to  let,  and  situated  in  a  region  where  good  fishing 
abounds.  From  the  grassy  hill  near  by,  a  broad  bird's-eye  view  is 
given  over  the  waters  of  the  lake,  and  out  upon  its  low  enwalling  moun- 
tains. The  road  goes  on  from  Greenvale  three  miles,  along  the  shore 
of  the  lake,  to  Rangeley,  the  metropolis  of  this  amphibious  region,  a 
village  of  twenty  or  more  houses,  with  several  stores  and  small  work- 
shops, and  two  hotels, — the  Rangeley-Lake  House,  with  cupola  and  broad 
piazzas,  and  rooms  for  seventy-five  guests,  and  the  smaller  Oquossoc 
House,  which  commands  a  noble  view  over  the  lakes  and  hills.  These 
hotels  were  built  in  1876-77,  and  have  very  good  accommodations,  con- 
sidering their  remoteness  from  the  world ;  and  attached  to  them  are 
livery  stables  and  boatmen  galore.  A  rather  rugged  road  follows  the 
north  shore  of  the  lake  from  this  village  to  the  hotel  at  the  Outlet,  a 
distance  of  perhaps  seven  miles. 

The  best  way  of  travelling  beyond  Greenvale  is  (of  course)  the 
steamboat;  one  of  the  least  of  steamboats,  to  be  sure,  but  affording  an 


82  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

easy  and  safe  conveyance  across  these  narrow  waters.  The  Molly- 
cJmnkaimink  is  not  so  long  a  craft  as  her  name  would  indicate;  but  she 
meets  the  miniature  billows  right  gallantly,  and  runs  across  the  lake 
from  Greenvale  to  Rangeley,  and  thence  to  the  Outlet,  a  distance  of 
nine  miles,  passing  Ram  Island  and  other  wee  bits  of  islets,  and  giving 
notable  views  of  the  great  hills  along  the  coast.  The  Indian  name  of 
this  famous  sheet  of  water  was  Oquossoc^  and  the  present  name,  dear  to 
thousands  of  sportsmen,  commemorates  an  eccentric  English  gentle- 
man, who  gave  up  his  tentative  land-speculations  in  Virginia  in  order  to 
found  a  little  feudal  sovereignty  in  the  wildest  corner  of  New  England. 
He  was  a  florid  and  hearty  gentleman,  always  hospitable,  very  courtly  in 
his  manners,  well  dressed  and  well  housed,  and  rich  in  bankable  funds, 
in  the  possession  of  70,000  woodland  acres,  in  the  love  of  two  blooming 
daughters  and  several  stalwart  sons,  and  in  the  hopes,  which  he  con- 
stantly kept  bright,  of  a  future  time  in  which  the  developed  gold  mines 
and  lumber  mills  and  the  perfected  inland  navigation  of  his  domain 
should  give  him  a  ducal  power  in  Western  Maine.  A  few  score  of 
Yankees  were  drawn  into  the  wilderness  to  follow  his  fortunes,  and  the 
squire  built  a  little  red  chapel,  in  which  they  and  his  very  dear  wife 
could  hear  the  Episcopal  service  on  Sundays  and  saints'  days.  All 
these  things  occurred  half  a  century  ago,  and  their  memory  has  become 
vague  and  confused.  In  his  fifteen  years  of  life  at  the  lakes  he  found 
that  his  Yankee  neighbors  would  not  take  kindly  to  the  idea  of  landlord 
and  tenantry,  and  that  neither  his  handsome  house  and  accomplished 
family,  nor  his  notable  achievements  in  mill-building  and  road-making, 
could  secure  him  seigniorial  rights  and  honors  from  the  practical  pio- 
neers about  him. 

It  was  during  Tyler's  administration,  while  the  Florida  War  and 
Dorr's  Rebellion  were  going  forward,  and  Fremont  was  exploring  the 
Wind-River  Mountains,  that  Mr.  Rangeley  grew  discouraged,  and 
abandoned  his  forest  principality,  retiring  to  Portland,  and  thence  to 
North  Carolina,  where  he  died,  twenty  years  later.  On  the  whole  rather 
a  picturesque  and  romantic  individual,  and  worthy  to  have  his  name 
perpetuated  for  some  centuries  yet. 

But,  earlier  even  than  Squire  Rangeley's  settlement,  this  wilderness 
was  penetrated  and  occupied  by  sturdy  old  Deacon  Hoar,  of  Leominster. 


Raugeley  Lakes,  ^2> 

From  Phillips  he  advanced  for  four  days,  deep  into  the  grim  solitudes 
beyond,  dragging  after  hini  a  hand-sled,  on  which  were  all  his  household 
goods  and  two  of  his  youngest  babies.  Behind  this  group  followed 
Mrs.  Hoar,  also  on  foot,  and  leading  five  more  children.  The  vast  wil- 
derness of  Maine  was  attacked  by  hundreds  of  such  heroic  processions, 
from  fifty  to  eighty  years  ago ;  but  it  baffled  them  all,  and  still  remains 
the  unconquered  fastness  of  Nature. 

Rangeley  Lake  is  one  thousand  five  hundred  and  twelve  feet  above 
the  sea,  and  the  village  on  its  shore  stands  higher  than  even  Bethlehem 
of  the  White  Mountains.  In  the  south  rises  the  long  Beaver  Mountain  ; 
on  the  west  is  Bald  Mountain,  four  thousand  feet  high,  and  a  landmark  for 
all  the  upper  lakes ;  and  on  the  north,  several  miles  away,  rise  the  vast 
dark  ridges  of  Saddleback,  higher  than  Chocorua  or  Kearsarge.  The 
lake  is  nine  miles  long,  and  about  three  miles  wide,  and  along  its  rolling 
banks  are  several  sunny  farms. 

•Kennebago  is  about  five  miles  long,  a  narrow  lake  winding  among 
high  hills,  and  reflecting  the  bare  crests  of  several  Alpine  peaks.  The 
peculiar  beauty  of  the  shores,  with  their  dainty,  sandy  beaches,  and 
groves  of  sturdy  trees,  is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  there  is  no  dam  at 
the  outlet  to  raise  the  waters  and  kill  the  trees  on  the  banks.  There  is 
a  camp  at  the  head  of  the  lake,  where  sportsmen  get  simple  and  hearty 
board  while  seeking  the  small  but  plucky  trout  that  dwell  in  these 
waters.  The  inlet-stream  leads  in  three  miles  to  Little  Kennebago  Lake. 
Twelve  miles  north  of  Kennebago,  by  the  Kennebago  River,  are  the 
Seven  Ponds,  in  an  uninhabited  township  that  corners  on  Canada. 
Many  enthusiastic  and  hardy  trout-fishers  visit  these  remotest  of  the 
Ran-geley  waters,  going  by  boat  to  the  head  of  Little  Kennebago,  and 
walking  thence  for  six  or  eight  miles.  Across  the  unexplored  and  un- 
named mountain  on  the  north  is  the  lonely  valley  of  Dead  River, 
through  which  Benedict  Arnold  led  his  doomed  army.  Kennebago  is 
reached  from  Rangeley  by  riding  three  miles  to  a  hill-top  which  over- 
looks the  entire  region,  and  then  walking  eight  miles  down  a  rough,  but 
well-worn,  forest-path. 

At  Rangeley  Outlet,  with  a  pleasant  view  up  the  lake  from  its  broad 
piazzas,  is  Kimball's  Mountain-View  House,  —  a  two-story  building, 
several  years  old,  with  forty  sleeping-rooms,  which  are  proudly  adver- 


84  Sununey  Days  Down  East. 

tised  as  "lathed  and  plastered,  and  suitable  for  the  accommodation  of 
ladies."  Attached  to  the  house  is  a  livery-stable,  and  on  the  silvery- 
waters  before  it  floats  a  squadron  of  boats.  Near  by  are  the  Lake  Point 
Cottage,  the  Oquossoc  Angling  Association's  camp,  and  a  large  hatch- 
ing-house, where  a  million  spotted  trout  are  hatched  every  winter.  A 
road,  a  mile  and  a  half  long,  leads  down  the  Outlet  from  Kimball's 
to  Indian  Rock,  the  site  of  Camp  Kennebago,  the  head-quarters  of  the 
Oquossoc  Angling  Association,  —  a  powerful  New-York  company,  with 
great  sums  invested  hereabouts,  active  in  stocking  the  lakes  with  young 
fish,  and  very  vigilant  in  enforcing  the  wise  game- laws  of  Maine.  At 
this  point  they  own  numerous  buildings  and  a  fleet  of  thirty  boats,  be- 
sides other  camps  and  adjacent  waters;  and  here,  in  a  delightful  semi- 
primitive  manner,  they  entertain  their  guests  and  themselves,  and  spread 
a  joyous  table  In  the  midst  of  the  wilderness.  In  July  and  August 
outsiders  arc  allowed  to  board  at  Camp  Kennebago.  Indian  Rock  is  at 
the  confluence  of  the  Rangeley  stream  and  Kennebago  River,  whence 
Oquossoc  River  flows  down  to  Cupsuptic  Lake,  nearly  a  mile  distant. 
The  head-quarters  of  sportsmen  in  the  lake  region,  forty  or  fifty  years 
ago,  was  at  this  place,  where  the  old-time  guides  had  their  rendezvous. 

Cupsuptic  Lake,  one  of  the  prettiest  in  the  group,  island-gemmed 
and  girt  by  wooded  hills,  lies  close  to  Camp  Kennebago,  whence  boats 
may  be  easily  rowed  five  miles  across  Cupsuptic,  and  four  miles  up  the 
Kennebago  River  to  Cupsuptic  Falls,  above  which  eight  miles  of  navi- 
gable (but  swift  and  shallow)  water  lead  to  the  portage  (eight  long 
miles  over  hills  and  ridges)  which  crosses  to  Parmachenee  Lake.  A 
guide  should  be  secured  at  Indian  Rock  for  this  journey.  The  long 
promontories  and  enclosed  sandy  beaches  which  surround  Cupsuptic 
make  beautiful  episodes  of  scenery  all  around  the  quiet  tarn ;  and  the 
Narrows,  the  great  thoroughfare  of  the  upper  lakes,  affords  the  best  of 
fishing.  Here  many  a  recreating  citizen  adopts  the  goodly  creed  that 
''  a  thing  of  duty  is  a  bore  forever,"  and  lazily  studies  the  chief  lesson 
of  Italian  civilization,  the  charming  dolce  far  nientc. 

Moosclucmaguntic  Lake  lies  below  Indian  Rock,  and  is  connected 
with  Cupsuptie  by  navigable  narrows,  on  and  near  which  are  sevpral 
comfortable  camps  and  cabins,  with  lovely  views  down  the  ten  miles  of 
the  great  lake.     At  the  end  of  the  two-mile  carry  from  Rangeley  Outlet, 


Ran  gel ey  Lakes.  85 

at  Haines'  Landing,  is  Richardson's  camp,  with  twenty  "lathed  and 
plastered  "  rooms,  in  a  two-story  house,  and  accommodations  for  sixty 
sojourners.  This  is  the  chief  hotel  hereabouts,  and  at  the  landing  in 
front  touches  the  little  steamer  Oqiiossoc,  which  makes  the  tour  of  the 
lake  every  day.  Three  or  four  miles  below  is  Bugle  Cove,  a  picturesque 
and  beautiful  locality,  the  seat  of  Allerton  Lodge,  over  which  rises  the 
ponderous  Bald  Mountain  (not  bald  at  all,  in  fact,  but  partly  cleared  on 
top,  for  the  view,  and  climbed  by  a  path  from  the  Lodge).  At  the  south 
end  of  the  lake  is  Camp  Bema,  under  the  care  of  Captain  Fred  C.  Barker, 
where  thirty  guests  can  find  accommodations,  and  luxuriate  on  mattresses 
and  spring-beds,  in  a  group  of  log  huts.  The  fishing  here  is  very  good, 
and  the  view  down  the  lake,  and  including  several  large  islands  and  dis- 
tant mountain-ranges,  is  full  of  beauty.  The  curving  sandy  beach  near 
the  camp  is  more  than  a  mile  long,  and  in  the  background  rise  the  long 
Bema  Mountains,  lonely  amid  the  forests.  Mooselucmaguntic,  the 
musically  named,  is  the  largest  and  most  diversified  of  the  upper  lakes, 
rich  in  islands,  promontories,  coves,  and  mountains,  and  highly  favored 
by  the  most  patrician  of  trout.  The  distance  from  Indian  Rock  to  Camp 
Bema  is  seventeen  miles,  and  it  is  seven  miles  thence  to  the  Upper  Dam. 
Some  of  the  islands  are  so  large  that  valuable  rafts  of  timber  have  been 
cut  from  them ;  others,  especially  in  the  great  archipelago  near  Brandy 
Point,  form  a  labyrinth  of  insulated  rocks  and  groves,  —  a  miniature 
Thousand  Islands.  As  the  Oqiiossoc  glides  over  the  lake  striking  viifvvs 
are  gained  of  the  Bema  Mountains  at  the  south,  the  Bald  Mountain  ridge 
on  the  east,  and  the  Kennebago,  Aziscoos  and  Boundary  Mountains  on 
the  north.  Farther  away,  in  the  south-west,  occasional  glimpses  are 
vouchsafed  of  the  distant  White  Mountains,  at  the  end  of  long  vistas  of 
blue  water.  The  Oqiiossoc  plies  between  Indian  Rock,  Camp  Bema,  and 
the  Upper  Dam  daily;  and  the  Ciipsiiptic  (least  of  steamers)  runs  up 
frequently  through  the  lake  and  to  the  falls  whose  bibulous  name  she 
bears. 

The  Upper  Dam  is  a  vast  and  massive  structure  of  heavy  timber, 
iron,  and  rocks,  fifteen  hundred  feet  long,  erected  in  1845-47,  and  pur- 
chased in  1877,  together  with  the  other  dams  hereabouts,  for  $350,000, 
by  the  company  that  furnishes  water-power  to  the  mills  at  Lewiston. 
Many  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  logs  have  passed  through  this  great 


86  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

warder  of  the  lakes,  which  in  June  and  July  raises  the  waters  above 
upwards  of  ten  feet,  overflowing  many  a  lovely  beach  and  romantic 
islet.  The  Upper  Dam  Camp  consists  of  two  rude  buildings,  a  refectory 
and  a  dormitory;  and  here  the  lamented  Tiieodore  Winthrop  had  his 
experience  with  Bourgogne,  so  delightfully  recorded  in  ''  Life  in  the  Open 
Air."  About  the  middle  of  June  there  is  great  excitement  here,  when 
the  logs  from  above  sweep  through  the  cataracts  of  the  opened  sluice, 
by  thousands,  turning  and  twisting  and  leaping  in  every  direction,  and 
preceded  by  great  batteaux  skilfully  guided  by  gigantic  woodsmen. 

There  are  famous  fishing  grounds  near  the  Upper  Dam,  where 
spotted  brook  trout  of  seven  pounds  have  been  captured,  and  where 
the  long  vista  down  the  stream  is  terminated  by  the  distant  peak  of 
Aziscoos.  It  is  half  a  mile  from  Trout  Cove,  on  Mooselucmaguntic,  to 
Echo  Landing,  where  the  steamboat  is  taken  on  the  next  lake  below. 

The  beautiful  lake  which  opens  below  the  Upper  Dam  bears  the 
name  of  Moilychunkamunk,  or  the  Upper  Richardson  Lake,  and  its 
shores  are  dotted  with  the  camps  and  lodges  of  sportsmen,  usually 
rather  pretty  cottages,  built  on  conspicuous  points.  The  trout  in  this 
lake  average  over  a  pound  each,  and  are  caught  by  thousands.  Occa- 
sionally a  ten-pound  trout  may  be  captured.  Hundreds  of  thousands 
of  artificially  hatched  young  trout  and  landlocked  salmon  are  turned 
loose  here  yearly.  A  path  leads  from  the  head  of  the  lake,  in  a  little 
over  a  mile,  to  the  Richardson  Ponds,  famous  for  their  deer  and  cari- 
bou, as  well  as  for  fishing,  and  beautified  by  many  a  lovely  islet. 
Aziscoos  may  be  reached  by  a  steep  blazed  trail  two  miles  long,  which 
begins  two  miles  from  the  settlement  on  the  Magalloway;  and  its  sum- 
mit, covered  with  blueberries  and  huge  square  blocks  of  granite,  com- 
mands a  magnificent  view  of  the  Magalloway  and  Rangclcy  valleys, 
the  distant  White  Mountains,  Katahdin  far  in  the  cast,  and  the  long 
lines  of  the  Boundary  Mountains.  The  top  of  Aziscoos  is  five  miles 
from  the  Richardson  Pond,  whence  it  may  be  ascended  by  skilful 
foresters. 

A  tiny  steamer  runs  up  and  down  the  lake  daily,  leaving  the  pier  a 
short  walk  from  the  Upper  Dam,  and  near  Camp  Bellcvuc,  a  Philadel- 
phian  institution.  Steaming  down  the  lake,  it  passes  Camp  Aziscoos, 
the  head-quarters  of  the  Boston  Club,  and  Camp  Whitney  (pertaining 


Range  ley  Lakes.  87 

to  San  Francisco  gentlemen),  a  delightfully  equipped  hunting-lodge, 
whence  trails  run  to  all  parts  of  the  adjacent  wilderness.  Near  the 
outlet  of  the  lake  is  Metalic  Point,  whence  a  trail  leads  inland  to  the 
paradise  of  deer  and  ducks,  Metalic  Pond.  Mollychunkamunk  is  over 
five  miles  long,  and  about  a  third  as  wide,  with  the  low  mountains 
thronging  around  its  shores,  making  many  a  Trosach-like  view,  over 
which  far-away  blue  peaks  here  and  there  shoot  up  into  sight.  The 
lake  covers  ten  square  miles,  and  its  clear  cold  waters  are  inhabited  by 
the  choicest  and  daintiest  of  trout.  The  immense  sesquipedalian  name 
of  this  little  lake  is  thus  happily  explained  by  Theodore  Winthrop : 
"  Bewildered  Indian  we  deem  it,  —  transmogrified  somewhat  from 
aboriginal  sound  by  the  fond  imagination  of  some  lumberman,  finding 
in  it  a  sweet  memorial  of  his  Mary  far  away  in  the  kitchens  of  the 
Kennebec ;  his  Mary  so  rotund  of  blooming  cheek ;  his  Molly  of  the 
chunky  mug." 

The  picturesque  and  navigable  strait  called  the  Narrows  is  two 
miles  long,  and  very  rocky,  with  a  singular  wall  of  rock  running  along 
its  right  bank,  and  down  this  blue  aisle  in  the  forest  the  little  steamboat 
rushes,  passing  from  Mollychunkamunk  into  the  Lower  Richardson 
Lake,  usually  called  by  its  ancient  and  pretty  Lidian  name  of  VVelo- 
kennebacook.  Just  as  the  boat  glides  out  on  these  broader  waters,  a 
very  noble  view  is  opened  on  the  southward,  where  the  distant  Mount 
Washington  and  his  gigantic  brethren  rise  above  the  forest,  and  beyond 
Speckled  Mountain,  and  other  guardians  of  Grafton  Notch.  Eight 
miles  from  the  Upper  Dam  the  boat  runs  up  to  the  wharf  at  the  Mid- 
dle Dam,  on  the  outlet  of  Welokennebacook,  and  thence  steams  down 
by  Loon  Bay,  Spirit  Island,  and  other  picturesque  localities,  to  the 
South  Arm,  the  remotest  corner  of  the  lake.  The  lower  lakes  are 
frequently  visited  by  the  Andover  route,  which  leaves  the  railway  at 
Bryant's  Pond,  and  passes  north  for  thirty-three  miles,  by  the  pretty 
village  of  Andover,  to  the  South  Arm. 

The  Middle  Dam  holds  the  waters  of  Welokennebacook  and  Molly- 
chunkamunk at  a  high  level,  as  one  of  the  reservoirs  of  the  Andros- 
coggin water-power.  Close  by  it  is  a  two-and-a-half-story  hotel,  with 
piazzas  and  'Mathed  and  plastered"  rooms,  frequented  by  sportsmen, 
and  commanding  a  lovely  view  from  its  piazzas,  up  the  long  vistas  of 


88  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

Welokennebacook.  It  is  about  six  miles  hence  down  the  portage  road, 
alongside  the  Rapid  River,  and  past  several  camps,  to  the  landing  of 
the  steamboat  on  Umbagog  Lake. 

Umbagog  is  the  lowest  and  largest  of  the  lakes,  being  but  1,256 
{qqX.  abovethesea, and  coveringeightecnsquaremiles  with  its  red  andturbid 
waters.  Far  away  appear  the  lofty  spires  of  the  White  Mountains,  the 
Dixville  highlands,  the  Diamond  Peaks,  Aziscoos  and  the  Boundary 
range,  and  scores  of  nameless  and  unvisited  hills.  The  steamboat  runs 
from  the  Richardson-Lake  road  across  the  lake,  and  down  its  outlet  for 
a  mile  or  so,  past  the  inflowing  of  the  Magalloway,  to  Errol  Dam, 
whence  a  highway  leads  up  to  Dixville  Notch  and  Connecticut  Lake. 
Steaming  back  into  Umbagog,  the  course  is  laid  southward  for  several 
leagues,  to  the  head  of  the  lake,  where  the  steamer  runs  into  the  Cam- 
bridge River,  and  soon  reaches  the  hotel  in  Upton,  where  connection  is 
made  with  stages  through  the  Grafton  Notch,  to  Bethel. 

About  seventy  miles  north  of  Umbagog  is  Parmachenee  Lake,  deep 
in  the  heart  of  tlie  wilderness.  The  steamboat  ascends  the  rapid  Magal- 
loway for  about  ten  miles,  nearly  to  the  head-quarters  and  hotel  of  the 
Berlin  Mills  Lumbering  Company;  and  above  that  point  the  traveller 
must  do  his  touring  in  a  row-boat,  often  alighting  for  long  portages 
around  roaring  rapids,  or  for  attacks  on  the  trout  of  the  clear  inflowing 
brooks,  or  to  pass  the  nights  in  the  half-savage  camps  of  the  pioneers. 
The  stream  slips  down  blackly  between  walls  of  evergreen  forest,  or 
sweeps  the  long  coasts  of  natural  meadows,  dotted  with  royal  elms ;  or 
flashes  down  over  long  inclines  up  which  the  pilgrims  of  pleasure  wade, 
towing  their  boats.  Sometimes  the  woods  open  out,  and  reveal  magic 
glimpses  of  the  Diamond  Peaks,  or  lofty  Azicoos,  or  the  colossal  semi- 
amphitheatre  of  Half-moon  Mountain,  or  the  rugged  and  lonely  peaks 
along  the  Canadian  frontier. 

Parmachenee  is  a  very  lovely  lake,  five  miles  long  and  three  wide, 
and  nestling  deep  among  a  group  of  gently  sloping  hills,  clad  with 
verdure  to  the  water's  edge,  and  inhabited  only  by  game,  large  and 
small.  The  altitude  of  this  region  is  so  great,  and  the  air  is  so  exquisitely 
pure  and  bracing,  that  a  sojourn  here,  even  though  unattended  by  the 
exhilarations  of  hunting  and  fishing,  is  full  of  benefit  to  the  exhausted 
citizen.     On  a  romantic  islet  near  the  head  of  the  lake  is  Camp  Caribou, 


Rangeley  Lakes. 


89 


a  cluster  of  buildings  where  fifty  guests  can  be  accommodated  at  once, 
while  being  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  the  woodland  craft  by  John 
Danforth,  the  veteran  guide,  who  has  constructed  comfortable  camps  at 
a  dozen  trout-populated  ponds  in  the  adjacent  forests.  An  old  portage 
road  leads  from  Little  Boy's  Falls,  two  miles  from  Camp  Caribou,  for 
eight  very  long  miles  through  the  woods,  to  the  Second  Connecticut 
Lake,  one  of  the  reservoirs  of  the  Connecticut  River. 


THE   SEA-BOARD   OF   MAINE. 


BATH,   AND    THE    MOUTH    OF   THE     KEN- 
NEBEC. 

jROM  the  dim  green  heart  of  the  forest,  on  the  edge  of  the 
ahnost  unexplored  Eastern  Townships  of  Canada,  turn  we  to 
the  rocky  shores  of  the  ocean,  .where  the  restless  waves  for- 
ever beat  against  the  iron-bound  and  unyielding  shore.  It 
is  a  straight-away  track  from  Phillips  down  to  Bath,  and  the 
train  traverses  the  distance  in  five  hours,  down  the  Sandy-River 
and  Androscoggin  valleys. 

Bath  is  a  quaint  old  inaritime  city,  stretching  sleepily  along  the 
Kennebec,  which  is  here  both  broad  and  deep,  and  presenting  from  the 
river  the  appearance  of  a  place  of  considerable  magnitude.  It  has  about 
8,000  inhabitants,  a  dozen  churches  (of  which  those  of  the  Free  Baptists 
are  most  numerous),  capital  schools,  half-a-dozen  banks,  two  newspapers, 
a  public  library,  and  a  stately  monument  to  commemorate  the  one 
hundred  and  seventeen  soldiers  out  of  its  contingent  of  seven  hundred 
and  sixty-five  (one-tenth  of  the  population),  who  died  on  the  Southern 
battle-fields.  The  earliest  settlement  here  was  made  by  Robert  Gutch,  a 
minister  from  Salem,  and  two  companions,  in  1657,  after  they  had 
bought  the  land  from  the  Indian  sachem,  Robin  Hood.  A  little  over  a 
century  later,  the  citizens  seized  the  King's  Dock  and  its  British  com- 
mandant, and  beat  back,  from  a  battery  down  the  river,  two  incoming 
royal  gunboats.     The  ship-building  industry  had  already  been  founded 


Bath.  9 1 

here  by  Captain  Swanton,  a  veteran  of  the  French  wars,  and  grew  amain, 
until  Bath  became  widely  famous  for  its  swift  and  seaworthy  vessels. 
In  i854fully  94,000  tons  of  shipping  were  built  here;  and  then  the  busi- 
ness declined  rapidly,  until  the  year  before  the  civil  war,  when  the 
product  fell  to  18,400  tons.  Nevertheless,  between  1859  and  1882,  the 
tonnage  built  was  464,217.  Recently  this  industry  has  increased  very 
notably,  and  now  more  sailing-vessels  are  built  in  the  Bath  district  than 
in  any  State  of  the  Union.  The  tonnage  in  1882  was  above  39,000,  and 
13,000  tons  were  on  the  stocks  at  the  beginning  of  1883.  Among  these 
were  several  ships  of  over  2,000  tons  each.  The  firm  of  Goss  &  Sawyer 
alone  has  built  more  than  one  hundred  and  sixty  vessels  within  fifteen 
years,  with  a  tonnage  exceeding  125,000,  and  is  now  turning  out  a  com- 
pleted vessel  every  fortnight.  Extensive  works  are  now  in  preparation 
for  the  construction  of  iron  ships  and  steamers,  boilers  and  engines,  and 
it  is  hoped  that  at  no  distant  day  stanch  and  stately  ships,  constructed 
from  the  magnificent  Katahdin  iron,  may  sail  from  this  port.  There  are 
three  miles  of  ship-yards,  occupied  by  more  than  a  thousand  skilled 
mechanics,  substantial  and  intelligent  citizens,  whose  weekly  wages  aver- 
age above  $16.00  each.  The  greater  part  of  the  lumber  used  is  brought 
from  the  Southern  States,  Maine  contributing  only  the  hard-wood  and 
hackmatack.  Occasionally  a  large  vessel  is  rigged,  ballasted,  and  pro- 
visioned while  on  the  stocks,  and  launched,  with  colors  flying,  and  crew 
on  board,  leaving  port  immediately  for  distant  foreign  voyages.  Bath 
builds  more  wooden  ships  than  any  other  place  in  the  world,  and  has 
produced  more  than  $50,000,000  worth  of  them  within  a  century.  The 
wide,  deep,  salty  river,  with  its  bold  shores  and  sheltering  hills,  gives 
good  natural  advantages  for  this  business ;  but  the  chief  reason  for  its 
development  is  found  in  the  skill  and  energy  of  the  people.  "  The  men 
of  Bath,  born  in  the  seventeenth  century,"  says  the  local  historian, 
"were  reckoned  a  half-head  taller  than  the  men  of  any  other  community 
in  the  country.  They  were  a  race  of  giants  in  size  and  strength."  Their 
Maine  forests  have  faded  away;  but  they  draw  to  this  remote  point 
lumber  from  Georgia  and  Canada,  spars  from  Oregon,  wire  rigging  from 
Europe,  add  to  these  their  own  labor  and  ingenuity  (reckoned  at  one- 
third  the  cost  of  a  ship),  and  construct  vessels  that  are  known  in  all 
seas. 


92  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

A  little  way  down  the  river,  at  a  time  (1601)  when  many  of  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers  were  still  at  school  in  England,  Popham's  colonists 
launched  the  first  vessel  ever  built  within  the  present  territory  of  the 
United  States.  They  named  her  the  Virginia,  of  Sagadahoc,  and  she 
sailed  merrily  away  to  England,  and  thence  to  Virginia.  In  1674  Sir 
William  Phips  built  a  ship,  across  the  river  from  the  present  Bath,  and 
when  she  was  ready  for  sea  the  Indians  were  pressing  so  hard  on  the 
settlers  that  the  latter  all  got  on  board,  and  sailed  away  to  Boston. 
Ninety-two  years  later  came  Swanton,  and  built  a  dozen  good  three- 
masters  here.  In  1771  the  Rev.  F"rancis  Winter  drove  into  Bath  with  the 
first  carriage  which  had  ever  been  seen  there,  having  been  obliged  to 
take  it  to  pieces  several  times  on  the  way,  and  carry  the  parts  across 
bad  places  in  the  roads.  Thirty  years  later  the  United-States  mails 
were  brought  to  Bath  on  horseback.  The  roads  were  of  minor  impor- 
tance, for  the  homes  and  routes  of  the  people  were  upon  the  ocean. 

The  sea  is  about  a  dozen  miles  away,  but  the  Kennebec  is  fully  half 
a  mile  wide  at  this  point,  and  bears  a  large  coastwise  and  foreign  trade 
to  the  city  wharves.  The  chief  hotel  at  Bath  is  the  Sagadahoc  House, 
—  a  large  and  commodious  brick  building  on  the  main  street,  not  far 
from  the  handsome  stone  edifice  which  is  occupied  by  the  United- 
States  post-office  and  custom-house.  The  people  of  Bath  are  highly 
cultivated  and  widely  connected,  and  have  many  visitors  during  the 
summer,  which  gives  a  sort  of  watering-place  gayety  to  the  town.  The 
local  livery  stables  give  the  best  of  facilities  for  driving,  whether  the 
route  is  over  the  beautiful  wood  road,  on  the  plains,  or  down  to  Adams', 
prolific  in  clams,  or  out  along  the  adjacent  shores ;  and  the  river  is  alive 
with  boats,  sailing  to  the  picnic  grounds  of  Woolwich  and  Arrowsic,  or 
down  to  the  green  islands  below,  or  by  steamboat  through  the  delightful 
short  routes  to  Squirrel  Island  or  Fort  Popham. 

The  mouth  of  the  Kennebec  River  is  guarded  by  Fort  Popham,  — 
a  ponderous  granite  structure  on  which  the  National  Government  has 
spent  great  sums  of  money,  and  to  little  purpose,  since  the  works  were 
never  finished,  and  in  1882  the  cannon  and  shells  were  removed  from 
the  walls  and  magazines.  Near  this  picturesque  and  half-dismantled 
fortress  is  the  long  sweep  of  Hunnewell's  Beach,  of  late  years  becoming 
more  and  more  known  abroad  as  the  site  of  the  Eureka  Mouse,  to  which 


Bathy  and  Mouth  of  the  Kennebec.  93 

small  steamboats  run  daily  from  Bath.  In  the  vicinity  are  extensive 
cranberry-meadows,  whose  products  bring  high  prices  at  Boston.  These 
localities  are  in  the  famous  peninsular  town  of  Phippsburg,  which  is 
joined  to  the  mainland  near  Bath  by  the  Winnegance  Carrying  Place, 
less  than  half  a  mile  wide,  and  extends  into  the  sea  for  more  than  a 
dozen  miles,  a  long  and  narrow  tongue  of  land,  indented  by  beautiful 
bays  and  fiords,  dotted  with  bright  fresh-water  ponds,  and  enlivened  by 
three  or  four  semi-amphibious  hamlets.  The  very  picturesque  scenery 
of  the  adjacent  beaches  and  islands  derives  an  added  interest  from  the 
historic  associations  which  cling  to  them. 

It  was  In  1607  that  the  Plymouth  Company,  excited  by  Weymouth's 
discovery  of  a  new  terrestrial  paradise  in  Maine,  sent  out  the  ships  Mary 
and  John  and  Gift  of  God,  commanded  by  George  Popham,  brother  of 
the  Lord  Chief-Justice  of  England,  and  bearing  one  hundred  and  twenty 
planters,  to  found  a  colony  on  this  coast.  They  settled  on  the  peninsula 
of  Phippsburg,  with  religious  ceremonies  of  the  Episcopalian  variety,  and 
built  a  twelve-gun  fort,  a  ship,  and  fifty  log-cabins,  where  they  were  visited 
by  many  of  the  neighboring  Indian  chieftains.  The  colonists,  after  the 
deaths  of  several  of  their  leaders,  repaid  the  hospitalities  of  the  natives 
with  horrible  atrocities.  Once  they  induced  a  party  of  their  red-skinned 
friends  to  pull  a  loaded  cannon  across  the  parade-ground,  and  while 
they  were  in  line  before  it  fired  off  the  gun,  killing  and  wounding 
nearly  all  of  them.  The  assembled  tribes  soon  laid  siege  to  the  place, 
and  carried  the  fort  by  escalade,  after  which,  as  they  were  revelling  in 
the  captured  works,  the  magazines  blew  up,  killing  a  great  number  of 
them,  and  causing  the  rest  to  flee  away  in  abject  terror.  A  few  months 
later  the  remains  of  this  evil  and  ill-fated  colony  abandoned  the  place 
forever,  and  returned  to  England,  reporting  that  the  aborigines,  whom 
•they  had  so  shamefully  outraged,  were  "  the  outcasts  of  civilization,  — 
the  very  ruins  of  mankind."  Governor  Popham  died  and  was  buried  at 
the  colony,  among  his  last  words  being,  "  I  die  content.  My  name  will 
always  be  associated  with  the  first  planting  of  the  English  race  in  the 
New  World." 

In  1614  Capt.  John  Smith  made  his  head-quarters  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Kennebec,  while  on  that  profitable  trading  expedition  in  which,  for 
a  few  trifles,  he  secured  eleven  thousand  beaver  skins,  and  four  hundred 


94  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

marten  and  otter  skins.  Capt.  Hunt  treacherously  seized  twenty-four 
Indians  hereabouts,  whom  he  took  to  Malaga,  Spain,  and  sold  for  $ioo 
each.  The  next  year  still  further  disasters  overtook  the  natives,  when 
the  Penobscot  and  Kennebec  tribes  went  to  war  with  each  other,  and 
were  almost  exterminated.  Those  whom  the  tomahawk  and  arrow 
spared  were  swept  off  by  a  terrible  pestilence  (yellow  fever  or  small- 
pox), and  left  the  land  almost  empty.  A  volume  would  fail  to  tell  of 
the  merciless  wars  which,  for  over  a  century,  broke  over  this  fair  penin- 
sula, from  time  to  time,  when  the  brave  and  indomitable  survivors  en- 
deavored to  extinguish  the  English  colonies  in  blood. 


BOOTHBAY   AND    ITS    ISLANDS. 

Within  a  very  few  years  the  pretty  islands  off  the  mouth  of  Booth- 
bay  harbor  have  attained  the  dignity  of  great  summer-resorts,  which 
are  visited  by  many  thousands  of  people  every  year,  and  are  famous 
all  along  the  Atlantic  seaboard.  At  first  their  visitors  were  altogether 
people  from  Maine;  but  the  fame  of  the  purity  of  the  island  air,  and 
the  beauty  of  the  scenery,  and  the  genial  bonliojuie  of  the  assembled 
companies,  soon  secured  a  wider  recognition,  and  now  Squirrel  and  its 
neighbors  have  guests  from  all  over  the  broad  Union. 

The  little  steamboats  Sebenoa  and  Sasanoa  run  from  Bath  to  the 
Boothbay  islands,  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles,  through  the  intricate  and 
picturesque  passages  which  connect  the  Kennebec  and  Sheepscot  Rivers. 
It  is  a  trip  filled  with  charming  surprises,  leading  through  deep  and 
narrow  straits,  between  rocky  shores  fringed  with  floating  sea-weed,  and 
under  noble  promontories  and  high-crested  islands,  whose  garniture  of 
trees  is  reflected  in  the  clear  sea-water  below.  And,  besides  all  this 
charm  of  nature,  there  is  hardly  another  locality  on  the  coast  so  con- 
secrated by  legends  and  romantic  annals  of  the  remote  past. 

Crossing  the  broad  Kennebec  from  Bath,  the  boat  runs  through  the 
bridge  which  connects  Woolwich  with  ancient  Arrowsic,  and  follows  the 
shore  of  the  latter  for  several  miles,  through  the  rushing  tides  of  Upper 


Boothbay  and  its  Islands.  95 

Hell  Gate,  and  around  the  ghost-haunted  cliffs  of  Hockomock  Point. 
Arrowsic  is  an  island-town,  running  south  seven  miles  to  the  cliffs  of 
Bald  Head,  and  having  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  inhabitants.  The 
gloomy  annals  of  the  seventeenth  century  redden  when  they  record  the 
frequent  disasters  of  this  ill-fated  colony,  thrice  swept  by  the  Indians, 
and  stained  all  over  with  conflagration  and  massacre. 

Leaving  Phip's  Point  on  the  left,  the  obedient  little  boat,  held  well 
in  hand,  runs  up  a  snug  cove  to  Westport  Upper  Landing,  and  then  down 
through  the  boiling  caldron  of  Lower  Hell  Gate  to  Westport  Lower 
Landing,  passing  several  dainty  little  islets  mirrored  in  the  stream. 
Westport  is  an  island-town,  eleven  miles  long  from  the  old  fortifications 
on  Squam  Heights  to  the  southern  point.  There  are  about  6oo 
inhabitants,  with  a  few  farms,  but  mainly  devoted  to  the  sea  and  its 
mysterious  harvests.  Beyond  the  landing-places  at  Riggsville  the  boat 
crosses  the  mouth  of  the  estuary  which  nearly  cuts  Georgetown  in  two, 
and  runs  out  through  a  very  picturesque  strait  into  the  Sheepscot  River, 
touching  again  at  Fire  Islands,  where  several  Maiden  and  Boston  families 
have  established  summer  homes.  The  largest  of  these  islands  was 
bought  in  1870  for  $200,  and  has  a  group  of  club-cottages,  a  common 
dining  hall  and  kitchen,  and  hall,  and  yacht.  It  covers  twelve  acres, 
part  of  which  is  occupied  by  pretty  groves  of  spruce  and  fir. 

After  a  short  run  across  the  mouth  of  the  Sheepscot,  with  the  open 
sea  on  the  right,  the  snug  narrows  north  of  Southport  being  traversed, 
the  outer  harbor  of  Boothbay  is  entered,  and  the  course  is  laid  for  the 
joyous  archipelago,  Capitol,  Mouse,  and  Squirrel  Islands,  with  beautiful 
marine  scenery  on  every  side,  Boothbay  village  on  the  left,  and  the 
broad   ocean  on  the  right. 

Boothbay's  two  small  hotels  are  overflowed  by  summer  guests,  who 
•clamber  about  the  crooked  hill-streets  and  among  the  gray  old  wharves, 
and  sail  up  and  down  the  harbor,  and  among  the  islands  beyond.  There 
are  about  4,000  inhabitants  in  the  town,  mostly  dependent  on  the  ever- 
generous  sea  for  a  living,  and  passing  rich  in  the  possession  of  one  of 
the  finest  harbors  in  New  England,  wherein  sometimes  several  hundred 
sail  of  fishing-vessels  take  refuge.  Many  thousands  of  barrels  of  porgies 
have  been  brought  into  this  little  port,  and  made  into  oil,  the  refuse 
being  afterwards  used  for  phosphate  fertilizers.     There  are  now  large 


96  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

dog-fish  works  here ;  and  another  important  industry  is  the  storage  and 
shipment  of  vast  quantities  of  ice.  At  the  little  custom-house  is  a  museum 
of  curiosities, — John  Brown's  shackles,  Zulu  assegais,  a  brick  from  the 
house  where  Columbus  was  born,  and  many  strange  relics  of  war  and  of 
the  fisheries. 

Captain  Weymouth,  in  the  Archangel,  lay  in  this  haven  (or  one  ad- 
jacent) for  several  days,  in  the  year  1605,  and  named  it  Pentecost 
Harbor,  trading  and  visiting  with  the  natives,  and  rearing  crosses  on  the- 
adjacent  promontories.  Then  he  treacherously  seized  five  of  the  Indians, 
and  carried  them  to  England,  where  they  were  received  into  kind  and 
commiserating  Christian  families.  One  of  these  was  that  Squanto  who 
many  years  later  walked  into  the  gloomy  village  of  Plymouth,  saying 
"  Welcome,  Englishmen  !  "  and  became  the  most  valued  friend  of  the  un- 
happy Pilgrims.  Skitwarroes  also  returned  to  America,  with  the  Popham 
colony;  and  Nahanada,  who  was  captured  by  the  Spaniards,  while  in 
an  English  vessel,  somehow  escaped  from  Iberian  captivity,  and  returned 
to  Maine,  where  he  became  the  chief  of  his  native  village.  Assecomet 
and  Dehamida,  the  other  captives,  disappeared  in  Europe.  The  Booth- 
bay  heroes  who  died  in  the  civil  war  are  commemorated  by  a  monument, 
with  a  martial  statue  of  Hallowell  granite.  This  locality  was  settled  as 
early  as  Boston,  and  destroyed  by  hordes  of  Indian  warriors.  The  next 
relay  of  colonists  were  valiant  Scotch-Irish  Presbyterians,  veterans  of 
the  Revolution  of  1688;  and  the  celebrated  John  Murray  was  pastor 
here  for  many  years.  The  village  suffered  greatly  from  plundering  raids 
of  British  frigates,  until  Murray  went  out  to  the  fleet,  arrayed  in  his 
canonical  robes,  and  set  forth  to  the  naval  officers  the  sad  state  of  his 
people.  After  this  solemn  visitation  the  blue-jackets  were  kept  in  their 
wooden  walls,  and  the  little  town  enjoyed  comparative  peace. 

Squirrel  Island  is  the  summer-metropolis  of  this  region,  and  looks 
bravely  out  to  sea  from  the  outer  roads  of  Boothbay  harbor,  three  miles 
from  the  village.  It  formed  a  part  of  the  dowry  of  the  bride  of  Wil- 
liam Greenlief,  an  old-time  Harvard  graduate  and  member  of  the  Legis- 
lature. In  1870  the  little  domain  was  bought  by  Lewiston  gentlemen, 
for  $2,150,  and  divided  into  lots,  most  of  which  have  since  been  sold 
and  occupied  by  summer-cottages.  The  population  during  the  season 
is  not  far  from  one  thousand,  mainly  people  from  the  Androscoggin  and 


Boothbay  and  its  Islands,  97 

Kennebec  towns,  whose  families  come  hither  in  happy  colonies,  and  mingle 
in  a  pleasant  and  decorous  democracy,  on  the  croquet,  archery,  and 
tennis  grounds,  or  along  the  lovely  beaches,  or  on  the  yachts  which 
skim  the  adjacent  seas.  Plank-walks  run  through  the  groves  and  by 
the  cottages  in  every  direction;  but  roads  there  are  none.  A  union 
chapel  forms  the  centre  of  the  island  on  Sunday,  and  on  other  days  the 
people  flock  to  the  cosey  public  reading-room  and  post-office.  The 
annals  of  the  community,  and  countless  legends  of  the  coast,  are  pre- 
served in  the  Squirrel-Island  Squid,  —  a  bright  and  good-natured  little 
newspaper,  luxuriously  printed  on  fine-tinted  book-paper.  Around  the 
island  you  may  visit  Kidd's  Cave,  and  seek  buried  treasure  ;  or  look  off 
from  Moss  Cliff;  or  catch  fish  from  the  rocks  of  Cunner's  Point;  or 
examine  the  wonderful  flume  of  Cleft  Rock;  or  see  the  great  waves  roll 
in  along  the  south  shore ;  or  sail  in  the  swift  yachts  into  new  worlds, 
and  out  to  famous  historic  islands  in  the  blue  main.  The  Squirrel- 
Island  Association  forbids  the  erection  of  a  hotel,  but  the  spacious 
Chase  House  and  several  boarding-houses  give  accommodations  to 
transient  visitors,  who  ramble  at  will  over  these  enchanted  hundred  and 
fifty  acres  of  natural  parks,  and  down  to  the  resonant  shores. 

There  is  a  pretty  little  sandy  cove  on  one  side  of  the  island,  with 
a  rivulet  of  pure  fresh  water  pouring  into  it,  and  here  in  ancient  times 
many  vessels  used  to  get  supplies  of  drinking-water.  The  British  frigate 
Squirrel  spent  a  long  time  on  the  Maine  coast,  cruising  from  Pemaquid 
to  the  Kennebec,  and  it  is  supposed  that  her  visits  to  this  island,  to  get 
wherewithal  for  her  jolly  jack-tars  to  mix  their  grog  with,  caused  her 
name  to  be  transferred  to  it.  At  one  time  the  British  government  in- 
tended to  establish  a  navy-yard  at  Boothbay,  and  the  huge  old  three- 
decker  Bulivark,  74,  often  looked  into  the  harbor,  until  the  alert  militia- 
men gathered  on  all  the  adjacent  headlands,  to  drive  off  her  inquisitive 
boats. 

Mouse  Island,  more  than  a  mile  from  Boothbay,  covers  about  forty 
acres,  in  woods,  lawns,  and  parks,  with  charming  sea-views  all  around, 
and  every  convenience  for  boating,  bathing,  and  fishing.  It  was  discov- 
ered in  1866,  by  Mr.  Johnston,  who  erected  here  Rosewood  Cottage,  a 
pretty  stone  villa,  with  rosewood  finishings.  In  1877  the  Samoset  House 
was  built,  adjoining  the  cottage,  with  seventy  rooms,  and  since  that  time 


98  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

the  summer  congregation  on  the  island  has  increased  with  every  year. 
It  is  supposed  that  the  original  name  of  the  locality  was  Moss  Island, 
for  which  very  good  reason  may  be  found  around  its  rocky  ledges. 
Steamboats  can  be  taken  here  several  times  daily  for  the  other  Islands 
and  shores  of  the  harbor. 

Ocean  Point  was  visited  by  Capt.  Weymouth's  expedition  in  1605, 
and  Owen  Griffin,  a  gallant  young  Welsh  sailor,  first  set  foot  on  its  wild 
shores.  He  found  nearly  three  hundred  armed  Indians  there,  but  par- 
leyed with  them,  and  was  allowed  to  depart  in  peace.  The  point  is  at 
the  seaward  end  of  Boothbay's  easternmost  promontory,  six  miles  from 
the  village,  and  has  a  hotel  and  a  considerable  colony  of  summer  cot- 
tages. A  large  Queen-Anne  hotel,  of  the  first  class,  is  about  to  be 
erected  here,  face  to  face  with  the  ocean.  Ocean  Point  is  six  miles  from 
Boothbay,  viewing  the  wide  sweep  from  Seguin,  by  Mouse  aild  Squirrel 
Islands  and  Monhegan,  to  Pemaquid. 

Capitol  Island,  with  its  little  hotel  and  group  of  summer-cottages, 
lies  near  the  Southport  shore;  and  on  Burnt  Island  stands  a  light-house, 
showing  the  way  into  port  at  night.  Space  fails  to  tell  of  the  beauties 
and  legends  of  Cape  Newagen  and  lonely  Seguin,  of  Fisherman's  and 
Damariscove  Islands,  and  many  others,  out  in  the  resounding  ocean. 

Far  out  at  sea,  a  purple  cloud  on  the  horizon,  rise  the  tall  cliffs  of 
Monhegan,  visited  by  Champlain  in  1605,  and  also  by  Capt.  Weymouth, 
who  named  it  St.  George,  and  lifted  up  an  Anglican  cross  upon  its 
silent  hills.  When  the  English  had  so  incurred  the  just  hostility  of  the 
Indians  that  they  dared  not  settle  on  the  mainland,  they  made  Monhegan 
their  head-quarters,  and  it  was  for  some  years  the  chief  trading-port  and 
harbor  of  Maine.  It  was  the  site  of  a  populous  and  prosperous  fishing 
station  and  village  until  King  Philip's  War  broke  out,  and  compelled  the 
desertion  of  all  outlying  New-England  colonics.  In  these  days  it  forms 
a  snug  little  Methodist  hamlet  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-three  souls, 
with  a  good  school  and  a  high  tax-rate  ;  and  summer  visitors  sojourn 
here,  well  out  to  sea,  in  Mrs.  Albce's  boarding-house,  to  which  they  are 
brought  (on  giving  several  days'  notice)  by  sail-boats  from  Boothbay. 
The  island  covers  one  thousand  acres,  rising  two  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea,  and  marking  its  presence,  at  night,  by  a  strong  and  steady  white 
light  burning  in  its  high  granite  tower.      One  may  stand  here  as  on  the 


The  Classic  Maritime  Peninsulas.  99 

deck  of  a  fast-anchored  ship,  and  from  the  grassy  hill  look  out  on 
three  sides  upon  the  unbroken  blue  sea,  and  on  the  fourth  side  see  the 
distant  shores  of  Maine. 

Away  back  in  1813  the  British  brig  Boxer,  the  terror  of  this  coast, 
cruised  insolently  up  and  down  between  Monhegan  and  Pemaquid ;  and 
when  the  American  brig  Enterprise  sailed  down  to  meet  her  every 
headland  and  island  bore  its  groups  of  anxious  spectators,  watching  the 
red  cannon-flashes  leaping  through  the  smoke-pall  of  battle.  In  less 
than  an  hour  the  Boxer  surrendered,  and  the  two  ships  sailed  away  to 
Portland,  bearing  the  bodies  of  Burrows  and  Blythe,  their  respective 
commanders,  who  fell  in  that  hot  and  deadly  engagement.  They  were 
buried  in  the  Portland  cemetery,  side  by  side,  with  great  pomp  and 
solemnity.     This  was  the  battle  of  which  our  Longfellow  wrote :  — 

"I  remember  the  sea-fight  far  away, 
How  it  thundered  over  the  tide !  " 


THE    CLASSIC    MARITIME    PENINSULAS. 

The  Knox  and  Lincoln  Railroad  runs  across  the  heads  of  half-a- 
dozen  great  peninsulas,  which  project  to  the  southward  into  the  ocean, 
interlinked  with  noble  bays  and  clusters  of  islands.  It  affords  many 
glimpses  of  beautiful  marine  scenery,  and  skirts  a  region  which  is 
classic  in  the  annals  of  America.  When  the  natural  charms  of  this 
country  are  more  widely  known,  summer-travel  hitherward  will  be 
greatly  augmented,  and  the  picturesque  and  decaying  old  maritime 
towns  will  receive  a  new  life  and  develop  new  sources  of  wealth. 

At  Bath,  forty  miles  east  of  Portland,  the  eastward-bound  cars  run 
on  to  a  great  steam  ferry-boat,  and  are  carried  across  the  broad  Kenne- 
bec, with  charming  views  of  the  city  and  the  long  reaches  of  the  river. 
On  the  opposite  shore  is  Woolwich,  a  rugged  and  rocky  town,  originally 
called  Nequasset  by  the  Indian  tribe  which  dwelt  here,  and  winning  its 
present  name  from  a  fancied  resemblance  of  its  river-shore  to  that  of 
ancient  Woolwich,  on  the  Thames.     In  1638  the  first  pioneers  occupied 


I  oo  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

the  place,  and  in  1676  the  hostile  Indians  attacked  their  feeble  village. 
They  would  have  been  exterminated,  but  that  young  William  Phips, 
who  had  for  years  been  the  shepherd  of  his  father's  flocks,  on  the  prom- 
ontory still  known  as  Phips  Neck,  took  them  on  board  of  a  little  vessel 
that  he  had  built,  and  sailed  away  to  a  place  of  safety.  Many  years 
afterward  our  shepherd  of  Nequasset  recovered  from  the  wreck  of  a 
Spanish  galleon,  near  the  Bahamas,  $1,600,000  in  jewels  and  bars  of  gold 
and  silver,  and  became  Sir  William  Phips,  Governor  of  Massachusetts, 
and  commander  of  the  victorious  expedition   against  Port  Royal. 

After  passing  the  obscure  little  stations  of  Nequasset  and  Mons- 
weag  the  line  emerges  from  the  low  hills  and  runs  along  the  shore  of  a 
broad  bright  arm  of  the  sea,  to  the  ancient  and  unfortunate  village  of 
Wiscasset.  Hither  came  the  first  settlers  as  early  as  the  year  1663,  and 
a  dozen  years  later  they  were  sent  flying  down  the  coast,  by  an  irruption 
of  fierce  Indians.  For  sixty  years  the  town  lay  silent  and  depopulated, 
and  then  another  party  of  pioneers  came  in  and  built  a  fort,  which  was 
saved  from  capture,  soon  after,  by  a  skilful  stratagem  on  the  part  of 
three  women  who  were  occupying  it.  During  the  Revolution  the 
British  sloop-  of-war  Rainbow  sailed  up  the  river,  and  forced  a  contri- 
bution of  supplies  from  the  town,  under  threat  of  a  bombardment.  The 
flourishing  maritime  business  which  sprung  up  after  the  war  carried 
Wiscasset  vessels  and  mariners  into  every  sea;  but  the  Embargo  and  the 
War  of  1 81 2  annihilated  this  lucrative  commerce,  and  inflicted  upon  the 
brave  little  seaport  a  ruin  from  which  it  has  never  recovered.  A  few 
years  ago  the  town  made  large  outlays  of  money  and  credit,  in  the  hope 
of  regaining  its  commercial  importance  by  opening  routes  of  communi- 
cation between  its  harbor  and  the  interior;  but  the  scheme  came  to 
naught,  and  left  Wiscasset  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy,  and  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  it  can  ever  recover. 

This  landlocked  harbor  is  one  of  the  best  on  the  New-England 
coast,  being  formed  by  a  widening  of  the  Sheepscot  River,  broad,  deep, 
and  perfectly  sheltered,  and  never  closed  by  ice.  Seventy  years  ago  a 
national  surveying  commission  recommended  it  as  a  very  eligible  site  for 
a  navy-yard.  It  is  the  hope  of  the  citizens  that  at  some  future  time  a 
railway  will  be  constructed  hence  to  Quebec,  afibrding  the  shortest  and 
most  convenient   route  between   England    and  Canada.     But  in  spite  of 


The  Classic  Maritime  Penijtsulas  loi 

its  memories  of  the  palmy  long-ago,  and  its  hopes  of  a  brilliant  future, 
the  quiet  little  shire-town  is  slowly  fading  away,  losing  every  year  in 
population  and  valuation.  The  local  newspaper,  the  Seaside  Oracle, 
chronicles  the  decay  of  its  constituency,  and  the  vast  elms  about  the 
village  park  wave  mournfully  over  the  grassy  streets.  Tne  scenery  in 
the  vicinity  and  along  the  neighboring  roads  is  very  beautiful,  and  per- 
haps, like  some  of  the  ancient  Italian  ports,  Wiscasset  may  be  destined 
to  find  its  future  emolument  as  a  resort  for  pleasure-travellers  and  seekers 
after  the  picturesque.  Whoever  drives  down  the  Monsweag  road,  or 
across  the  long  bridge  to  Edgecomb,  or  down  the  sea-beaten  shores  of 
Jewonke  Neck,  or  climbs  the  far-viewing  heights  on  Clarke's  Point,  will 
get  a  succession  of  charming  panoramic  prospects  over  widening  leagues 
of  land  and  sea.  Daily  stages  run  down  the  long  peninsula  for  nine 
miles,  to  Boothbay.  facing  the  sea,  traversing  the  ancient  town  of  Edge- 
comb,  productive  of  bricks  and  ice.  The  harbor  of  Wiscasset  is  guarded 
by  Fort  Edgecomb,  a  ponderous  and  once  imposing  stone  fortress,  now 
nearly  eighty  years  old,  and  of  value  only  as  a  picturesque  element  in 
the  landscape. 

A  short  sail  below  Wiscasset,  down  a  beautiful  expanse  of  salt 
water,  leads  to  the  site  of  Old  Sheepscot,  which  was  settled  by  a  branch 
of  Popham's  colony,  about  the  year  1608,  and  afterwards  became  a  large 
and  important  colony,  occupied  mainly  by  people  from  English  Dart- 
mouth. For  some  years  this  town  had  a  representation  in  the  General 
Assembly  of  New  York.  In  1676  it  was  destroyed  by  the  Indians;  and 
in  1689  the  citizens  of  the  new  colony,  suspecting  their  garrison 
of  regulars  to  be  partisans  of  the  royal  Stuarts,  dispersed  them,  and 
soon  fell  an  eas}-  prey  to  a  terrible  Indian  attack.  The  town  was  so 
utterly  destroyed  that  no  attempt  was  ev^er  made  to  rebuild  it,  and  the 
ancient  King's  Highway  is  now  only  a  grassy  cart-track,  bordered  by 
scores  of  cellars  and  other  remains. 

The  Sheepscot  River,  from  Wiscasset  to  the  sea,  has  been  likened 
to  Somes's  Sound,  on  Mount  Desert,  for  its  singular  and  romantic 
beauty,  bordered  by  rocky  shores,  wooded  hills,  deep  coves,  and  waving 
forests.  Its  waters  are  very  deep,  a  pure  salt-sea  current,  never  freezing, 
and  the  home  of  countless  fish  and  lobsters.  The  facilities  for  boating 
are  very  good,  and  the  dense  fogs  and  heavy  squalls,  which  become  such 


I02  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

elements  of  danger  outside,  rarely  invade  these  tranquil  recesses.  The 
historic  interest  of  the  region  is  equal  to  its  scenic  beauty,  for  the 
Sheepscot  River  was  in  the  very  heart  of  the  dark  and  bloody  ground 
of  the  ancient  colonial  wars,  when,  amid  these  islands  and  harbors, 
French  infantry  and  sailors,  Indian  warriors,  Maine  colonists,  and  Mas- 
sachusetts Provincial  troops,  met  in  many  a  bloody  contest. 

On  the  bold  headland  of  Squam  Heights,  below  Wiscasset,  are  the 
ruins  of  Fort  McDonough,  which  was  erected  during  the  war  of  1812, 
a  star-fort  with  six  guns,  its  outer  approaches  guarded  by  a  formidable 
ahattis  of  fallen  trees  and  sharpened  stakes. 

The  famous  Rosicrucian  Springs  are  two  and  one-half  miles  from 
Wiscasset,  near  Wiscasset  Bay,  and  will  soon  (it  is  hoped)  be  provided 
with  a  large  summer-hotel  and  other  needed  accessories. 

The  Rosicrucian  Spring  is  alkaline-saline,  somewhat  resembling 
the  Seltzers  of  Germany,  but  much  stronger,  and  very  beneficial  in 
relieving  cases  of  rheumatism,  malaria,  hay  fever,  dyspepsia,  etc. 
Many  hundreds  of  barrels  of  it  are  sold  yearly  in  Boston  and  in  other 
cities. 

The  Ashburton  Spring  is  remarkably  pure,  and  has  special  value 
for  patients  who  require  a  water  much  less  contaminated  than  the  aque- 
ducts of  the  cities  afford,  or  than  the  products  of  the  average  well  and 
spring.  In  this  respect  its  properties  resemble  those  of  the  Poland  and 
Auburn  Springs,  so  long  and  justly  famous. 

Close  to  the  Rosicrucian  is  the  Mantho-Mer  Spring,  which  is  said 
to  be  the  purest  alkaline  water  in  the  world,  having  but  two  grains  of 
mineral  matter  to  each  gallon.  It  bears  the  name  of  the  friendly  Indian 
chief  who  held  a  council  on  the  adjacent  heights,  with  DeMonts  and 
Champlain,  in  the  summer  of  1605.  With  delicious  gravity  the  Spring 
Company  remarks,  in  its  prospectus:  "While  there  seems  to  be  some 
evidence  that  the  water  from  the  Rosicrucian  Spring,  now  favorably 
known  in  several  States  of  the  Union,  was  famous  from  the  early  part 
of  the  fourteenth  to  the  eighteenth  century,  during  which  time  it 
worked  almost  miraculous  cures,  and  that  while  controlled  and  dis- 
pensed by  the  Rosicrucian  Brotherhood  it  had  the  power  of  renewing 
youth  and  imparting  perpetwity  of  life;  yet  as  this  opinion,  if  estab- 
lished, would  interfere  with  the  generally  accepted  theory  of  the  early 


The  Classic  Maritime  Peninsulas.  103 

settlement  of  this  country,  and  as  the  purposes  of  our  corporation  are 
not  entirely  of  an  historical  nature,  we  prefer  to  drop  tradition  .  .  . 
and  to  date  our  history  from  1849."  The  scenery  and  historic  associa- 
tions of  this  region  are  of  such  deep  interest,  and  the  curative  proper- 
ties of  the  springs  are  so  well  recognized,  that  Edgecomb  Heights  seem 
destined  to  win  a  wide  fame,  as  a  summer  resort,  as  soon  as  proper 
accommodations    are    ready. 

The  next  station  on  the  railway  is  at  the  twin  villages  of  New- 
castle and  Damariscotta,  separated  by  the  Damariscotta  River,  and 
containing  together  about  2,500  inhabitants,  with  half-a-dozen 
churches,  good  schools,  and  several  mills.  When  Governor  VVinthrop 
founded  Boston  there  were  more  than  fifty  families  in  this  settlement ; 
but  the  town  was  entirely  destroyed  by  the  Indians  in  1675,  s"*^  again 
in  1688,  and  consequently  Boston  somehow  got  an  advantage,  which 
she  still  retains.  A  long  stage-ride  leads  from  these  villages  down  sea- 
ward into  Bristol,  which  was  granted  by  the  Plymouth  Council  to  cer- 
tain merchants  of  EngUsh  Bristol,  in  1631,  and  is  inhabited  by  the 
Americanized  descendants  of  ancient  Scottish  and  Scotch-Irish  immi- 
grants, with  the  Dutch  colonists  brought  by  Sir  Edmund  Andros  from 
New  Amsterdam,  and  several  German  families,  descended  from  the 
people  brought  over  a  century  or  so  ago  by  General  Waldo. 

There  are  over  3,000  people  in  this  amphibious  town,  with 
half-a-dozen  fish-oil  works,  factories  for  lobster-canning  and  s«il- 
making,  a  granite  quarry,  and  six  little  neighborhood  hamlets.  On 
one  of  the  outermost  peninsulas  of  Bristol  are  the  scanty  ruins  of  Pema- 
quid,  one  of  the  ancient  fortresses  of  New  England,  and  latterly  a 
permanent  battle-ground  of  antiquaries.  Somewhere  hereabout  Capt. 
Weymouth  led  his  savage  English  sailors,  in  1605,  and  twenty-seven 
years  later  a  rudely  forlified  village  was  in  existence  on  this  site,  and 
received  a  plundering  visit  froai  Dixey  Bull,  the  redoubtable  pirate  of 
the  Eastern  coast,  who  carried  off  all  the  vessels  in  the  harbor.  In 
1635  the  war-ship  Angel  Gabriel  wd^s  wrQck^d  nearby.  In  1664  the 
region  of  Pemaquid  became  a  Ducal  State,  under  the  control  of  the 
Duke  of  York,  the  son  of  King  Charles  I.  and  brother  of  Charles  II., 
and  himself  in  later  years  crowned  as  James  II.,  and  driven  from  his 
throne   by  Prince  William  of  Orange.     By  the  waters  of  Pemaquid   he 


I04  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

founded  a  little  Episcopalian  principality,  named  Jamestown,  and  built 
the  strong  bulwark  of  Fort  Charles,  which  he  garrisoned  with  unfortu- 
nate Dutchmen  from  New  York.  During  King  Philip's  War  this  "  cen- 
tre of  civilization  in  the  wilderness,  one  of  the  first-born  cities  of  the 
New  World,"  was  annihilated  by  an  Indian  army.  It  had  hardly  been 
rebuilt  again  when  another  horde  of  warriors  swooped  down  from  the 
northern  forests,  and  destroyed  town  and  fort  and  people. 

In  1.692  Sir  William  Phips  erected  here  a  strong  stone  fortress, 
with  eighteen  cannon;  but  four  years  later  Iberville  and  Castine  besieged 
it  with  two  frigates,  two  companies  of  French  infantry,  and  a  swarm  of 
Micmac  and  Tarratine  Indians.  A  bombardment  from  sea  and  land 
batteries  begun,  and  shells  rained  on  the  little  parade-ground,  and 
drove  the  defenders  from  the  walls.  The  works  were  surrendered,  and 
the  justly  incensed  Indians  massacred  a  part  of  the  garrison.  Then  the 
strongest  fortress  in  New  England,  with  its  flanking  towers  and  bomb- 
proofs,  and  lofty  barbican,  was  blown  up,  and  the  victors  sailed  away 
joyfully,  hotly  pursued  by  a  fleet  of  English  and  Massachusetts  frigates. 
In  1722—26  the  ruins  afforded  shelter  to  new  companies  of  settlers,  and 
a  few  years  later  Colonel  Dunbar  rebuilt  the  works,  as  a  defence  of 
Eastern  Maine.  In  1745  and  1747  this  post,  then  known  as  Fort 
Frederick,  beat  off  French  attacks ;  but  about  thirty  years  later  the 
inhabitants  of  the  neighborhood  destroyed  it,  root  and  branch,  so  that 
the  British  might  not  make  it  a  military  post  during  the  Revolutionary 
War.  In  18 14  the  place  was  attacked  by  two  hundred  and  sev^enty-five 
British  tars,  in  boats  from  the  frigate  Maidstone;  but  the  invaders  were 
beaten  off  with  such  heavy  loss  that  the  captain  of  the  frigate  was  dis- 
charged from  the  service.  Pemaquid  did  not  become,  as  its  good  old 
magistrate,  Abraham  Shurt,  prayed,  "  the  Metropolitan  of  these  parts  "  ; 
but  it  is  their  Marathon  and  Pompeii,  full  of  all  heroic  memories. 
Many  cellars,  cemeteries,  bits  of  paved  streets,  and  the  massive  foun- 
dations of  Sir  William  Phips's  fortress,  still  remain,  but  no  other  signs 
of  the  busy  port  and  the  embattled  batteries. 

"  The  restless  sea  resounds  along  the  shore, 

The  light  land-hreeze  flows  outward  with  a  sigh, 
And  each  to  each  seems  chanting  evermore 
A  mournful  memorj  of  the  days  gone  by." 


The  Classic  Maritime  Peninsulas.  105 

In  these  ancient  days  many  a  bold  buccaneer  sailed  these  narrow 
seas,  seeking  adventure  and  profit  among  the  fleets  which  then  came 
hitherward  from  Europe.  Dixey  Bull,  the  plunderer  of  Pemaquid,  was 
captured  off  the  coast  by  a  Royal  cruiser,  and  hung  in  chains  at  Lon- 
don. Captain  Kidd,  "  as  he  sailed,  as  he  sailed,"  visited  many  a  lonely 
headland  and  island  of  Maine,  and  an  organized  company  of  romantic 
Yankees  spent  some  years  of  this  nineteenth  century  in  digging  for  his 
buried  pots  of  gold,  along  the  lower  Kennebec.  Captain  Bellamy,  who 
afterwards  lost  his  ship  and  his  life,  and  his  hundred  black-bearded 
pirates,  on  Cape  Cod,  once  made  a  hot  foray  down  the  Maine  coast, 
and  when  his  "  long,  low,  black  vessel  "  was  well-nigh  foundering  in  a 
whirling  thunder-storm,  he  loaded  his  guns,  in  defiant  rage,  and  an- 
swered each  peal  of  thunder  rolling  through  the  heavens  with  a  full 
broadside  from  his  rocking  batteries. 

Near  Newcastle  are  vast  heaps  of  oyster-shells,  covering  acres  of 
ground,  and  affording  numerous  themes  to  the  antiquaries  of  New 
England.  Arrow-heads,  bones,  and  bits  of  decorated  pottery  are  found 
among  these  prehistoric  remains,  and  it  is  evident  that  the  aborigines 
appreciated  and  feasted  freely  upon  the  delicious  shell-fish,  long  cen- 
turies  gone  by. 

The  train  runs  north-east  to  Waldoborough,  a  pretty  village, 
which  is  seen  stretching  along  the  hills  on  the  south,  embowered  in 
century-old  trees,  and  girt  about  with  ship-yards  and  small  and 
bustling  factories.  This  venerable  town  was  settled  before  1740  by 
German  and  Scotch-Irish  colonists  ;  but  the  red  aborigines  soon  fell  upon 
the  unhappy  village,  and  swept  away  or  slew  all  its  people.  About  a 
dozen  years  later,  fifteen  hundred  Germans  came  over  the  seas,  and 
settled  in  this  region,  where  they  found  the  land  speculators  their  worst 
enemies. 

The  next  town  on  the  line-  is  Warren,  which  was  settled  in  1736 
by  Germans  and  Scots,  and  still  preserves  the  memory  of  the  latter  in 
its  little  hamlet  of  Stirling,  and  in  the  mills  on  Georges  River,  where 
capital  Scotch  Cheviot  cloths  are  made.  As  the  train  winds  up 
through  the  lonely  hills  occasional  glimpses  are  gained  of  Congress 
Mountain  and  Mount  Pleasant,  and  the  route  descends  the  valley  of 
Georges   River  to  Thomaston,  a   pleasant   village    on   a  snug   harbor 


io6  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

formed  by  the  widening  of  the  stream.  This  town  has  3,000  inhabi- 
tants, half-a-dozen  churches,  two  or  three  banks,  and  a  local  news- 
paper. It  is  also  the  seat  of  the  Maine  State  Prison,  where  nearly 
two  thousand  unhappy  convicts  have  languished  during  the  past  sixty 
years.  Close  to  the  site  of  the  present  railway-station  stood  (until 
1872)  "  Montpelier,"  the  great  mansion  of  General  Henry  Knox, 
commander  of  the  American  artillery  during  the  Revolution,  Secretary 
of  War  from  1785  to  1795,  founder  of  the  order  of  the  Cincinnati,  and 
grand  seignior  of  all  this  region,  which  came  to  him  through  his  wife, 
heiress  of  a  large  part  of  the  extensive  domains  granted  to  and 
colonized  by  General  Waldo,  about  the  year  1730.  This  baronial 
mansion  stood  near  the  site  of  the  ancient  fort,  which  several  times 
beat  off  attacks  by  the  Indians,  led  on  by  French  monks,  and  aided  by 
fleets  of  vessels.  Blockade,  bombardment,  and  mining,  alike  failed  to 
reduce  this  little  fortress,  which  was  finally  demolished  by  the  British, 
at  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution.  In  later  years  Knox  exercised  a 
princely  hospitality  here,  and  exacted  the  observance  of  the  strictest 
old-time  etiquette.  Another  veteran  artillerist.  Captain  Thomas  Vose, 
built  a  mansion  near  by,  which  stood  until  1882. 

Stages  run  from  Thomaston  down  the  seaward  peninsulas  to  the 
ancient  towns  of  Friendship,  Cushing,  and  St.  George,  on  rocky  points 
making  down  toward  Muscongus  Bay  and  the  open  ocean,  and  dotted 
with  hardy  little  maritime  hamlets.  Along  these  shores  and  among 
the  islands  in  the  offing  occurred  several  sanguinary  conflicts  during 
the  old  Indian  wars,  and  it  was  found  necessary  to  erect  a  strong  stone 
fortress  here,  to  prevent  the  annihilation  of  the  settlements.  The 
scenery  in  this  region  is  famed  for  its  beauty,  and  bears  some  resem- 
blance to  localities  on  the  coast  of  Norway. 

A  few  miles  beyond  Thomaston  the  railroad  reaches  its  terminus^ 
far  out  in  the  fields  outside  of  Rockland,  the  metropolis  of  Penobscot 
Bay,  amid  very  pleasant  hills,  and  facing  out  on  a  broad  expanse  of 
salt  water.  This  is  a  chartered  city,  with  nearly  8,000  inhabitants,  a 
very  copious  supply  of  banks,  hotels,  newspapers,  and  churches,  and  a 
long  and  busy  (but  architecturally  unpretentious)  street  of  stores  and 
offices.  The  chief  public  building  is  the  post-office,  a  handsome 
structure  of  St.  Georcfc's  sjranitc.     The  manufacture  of  lime  has  been 


Penobscot  Bay.  107 

the  leading  industry  of  Rockland  for  ninety  years,  and  sometimes 
employs  a  thousand  men,  producing  more  than  a  million  barrels  a 
year.  The  lime  quarries  are  about  a  mile  out,  and  the  eighty  kilns 
form  a  smoky  fringe  around  the  city,  each  of  them  employing  four 
men,  and  consuming  vast  quantities  of  lime  rock  and  soft  wood. 
Nearly  all  this  supply  of  lime,  and  a  great  product  of  Portland  cement, 
are  sent  away  by  sea. 

Rockland  is  highly  favored  by  summer  tourists,  for  besides  the 
beautiful  drives  in  its  vicinity,  and  the  interesting  stage-routes  to  St. 
George,  Owl's  Head,  Union,  Belfast,  Augusta,  and  Camden,  it  is  the 
port  of  departure  for  several  important  steamboat  lines.  The  Boston 
and  Bangor  steamboats  touch  here,  and  connect  with  the  two  lines  to 
Mount  Desert  (one  via  Castine,  and  the  other  through  the  Fox 
Islands)  ;  and  small  and  wheezy  steamers  run  hence  to  several  of  the 
islands  out  in  the  bay,  —  to  Vinalhaven,  North  Haven,  Hurricane 
Isle,  etc. 


PENOBSCOT    BAY. 

On  the  islands  near  the  mouth  of  Penobscot  Bay  are  vast 
granite  quarries,  employing  thousands  of  men,  and  producing  a 
building  material  which  takes  high  rank  for  its  uniformity  and  com- 
pactness. From  the  wave-washed  ledges  of  Dix  Island,  Hurricane 
Isle,  Vinalhaven,  and  Spruce  Head  have  been  taken  the  granite  mono- 
lithic pillars  for  the  Treasury  Department  at  Washington,  the  materials 
for  the  New- York  Post-office,  and  the  great  government  buildings  at 
Cincinnati,  Pittsburgh,  Atlanta,  St.  Louis,  Baltimore,  and  Philadelphia, 
besides  many  other  structures  of  almost  equal  importance.  Hurri- 
cane Isle,  twelve  miles  from  Rockl?.nd  (daily  steamers),  covers  one 
hundred  and  fifty  acres,  and  is  an  independent  town,  with  from 
200  to  600  inhabitants,  according  to  the  amount  of  work  on 
hand.  Among  other  products  of  the  Penobscot  granite  are  the 
Brooklyn  Bridge,  the  Tribune  Building,  the  Masonic  Temple  at  Phila- 


1 08  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

delphia,  the  St.  Louis  Bridge,  the  Indiana  State-House  pillars,  much 
of  the  Capitol  at  Albany,  and  the  Chicago  Board  of  Trade  Building. 

Vinalhaven,  an  interesting  island  town  between  Penobscot  Bay 
and  the  sea,  is  connected  with  Rockland,  fifteen  miles  distant,  by  a 
primitive  little  daily  steamboat,  which  touches  on  the  way  at  Hurricane 
Isle.  The  chief  village  in  Vinalhaven  is  at  Carver's  Harbor,  which  was 
named  from  the  descendants  of  Governor  John  Carver,  of  Plymouth, 
many  of  whom  dwell  here,  and  occupies  a  very  favorable  location  on 
a  high  terrace  over  the  sea.  It  has  a  church,  a  score  of  stores,  and 
two  ideally  cheap  hotels,  where  hearty  and  simple  fare  is'  furnished  at 
five  dollars  a  week.  The  great  institution  of  the  island  is  the  Bodwell 
Granite  Quarries,  producing  vast  quantities  of  gray  and  red  granites, 
which  are  highly  prized  all  over  the  country.  The  polishing  mill  is 
very  interesting,  and  also  the  powerful  machinery  by  whose  aid 
immense  masses  of  stone  are  lifted  and  moved  about.  An  obelisk  of 
a  single  stone  sixty  feet  long  has  been  quarried  here. 

North  Haven  is  another  island-town,  one  of  the  Fox  Islands,  eight 
miles  long,  with  hills  seven  hundred  feet  high  rising  from  its  plains. 
Although  it  has  but  800  inhabitants,  its  fishing  fleet  includes  some  of 
the  finest  vessels  in  New  England,  and  North  Haven  ranks  as  the 
foremost  fishing-port  in  Maine,  next  to  Portland.  The  earliest 
explorers  of  the  coast  saw  such  numbers  of  silver-gray  foxes  on  these 
silent  shores  that  they  named  them  the  Fox  Islands.  They  resorted  to 
them  frequently  for  wood  and  water.  When  the  British  troops 
occupied  Castine,  during  the  Revolution,  they  made  frequent  raids  on 
the  little  colonies  here,  and  carried  off  all  the  men  to  work  on  their 
fortifications.  Many  a  sharp  naval  skirmish  occurred  in  these  narrow- 
waters,  between  the  privateers  of  the  bay  and  the  Royalist  vessels,  and 
the  chronicles  of  the  adjacent  towns  teem  with  deeds  of  daring  wrought 
in  tho.se  heroic  days. 

IsIe-au-Haut  lieS  well  out  in  the  sea,  to  the  eastward  of  Vinal- 
haven, twenty-five  miles  from  Rockland,  and  is  destined  to  become  one 
of  the  foremost  summer-resorts  of  Maine,  several  thousand  acres  of  it 
having  been  purchased  and  laid  out  by  Boston,  New- York,  and 
Chicago  gentlemen.  The  Thoroughfare  is  the  island  capital,  where  are 
the  homes  of  about  two  hundred   people,  kind-hearted,  intelligent,  and 


Penobscot  Bay.  109 

hospitable,  and  nearly  all  deriving  their  subsistence  from  the  surround- 
ing seas.  A  recent  visitor  reports  that  "  A  Sabbath-like  stillness 
prevails  over  the  island,  broken  only  by  the  bleating  of  sheep  and 
lowing  of  kine.  Almost  every  one  you  meet  is  solemn,  even  the 
children."  Yet  the  chief  building  is  a  perfectly  appointed  dance-hall, 
which  was  erected  by  that  chivalric  Southerner,  Colonel  Montgomery, 
and  the  defunct  Isle-au-Haut  Improvement  Company.  The  little 
Congregational  Church  near  by  has  for  a  vane  a  strange  and  extraordi- 
nary fish.  There  are  no  horses  on  Isle-au-Haut,  and  many  of  the 
islanders  have  never  seen  this  noblest  friend  of  mankind.  A  few 
cattle  serve  for  the  meagre  farming  operations.  The  grand  feature  of 
this  insular  land  of  dreams  is  its  mountains,  rising  from  the  shores  to 
the  height  of  six  hundred  feet,  clad  with  a  vast  number  of  berry- 
bushes  and  strawberry-vines,  and  visible  for  many  leagues  over  the  sea 
and  bay,  almost  always  wrapped  in  a  rich  purple  haze,  approaching 

"The  light  that  never  was,  on  land  or  sea." 

To  the  south  is  the  mile-long  expanse  of  Crystal  Lake,  bordered 
by  shining  sands,  and  so  transparent  that  a  newspaper  can  be  read 
through  a  piece  of  its  ice  twenty-two  inches  thick.  Thousands  of 
wild-fowl  haunt  this  lovely  vale  during  the  summer  and  autumn. 
Foxes  formerly  swarmed  on  the  island ;  but  they  have  been  nearly  all 
killed,  because  they  used  to  destroy  the  sheep,  which  now  roam  at  will 
over  the  grand  sea-viewing  hills. 

Islesborough  is  a  town  out  in  Penobscot  Bay,  composed  of  Long 
Island  and  several  short  islands,  with  about  1,200  Baptist  inhabitants, 
and  every  man  a  good  sailor  and  skilful  fisherman.  Of  late  years  it 
has  become  known  as  a  summer-resort,  and  its  hotels,  the  Seaside  and 
Sprague,  fail  to  accommodate  the  throngs  of  visitors  who  seek  the 
cool  and  fragrant  air  of  these  lovely  isles,  while  many  families  from  up 
the  valley  have  erected  pretty  summer-cottages  amid  the  attractive 
scenery  of  Ryder's  Cove. 

Deer  Isle  is  a  very  interesting  marine  town,  ten  miles  long  and  six 
wide,  with  3,300  inhabitants,  half-a-dozen  churches,  three  high  schools, 
and   six    snug    little    sea-side    hamlets,   frequently  touched    at  by  the 


I  lo  Summer  Days  Down  East, 

Mount-Desert  steamers.  There  are  several  small  and  unpretentious 
boarding-houses  in  the  villages,  and  many  of  the  farmers  take  boarders; 
so  that  three  or  four  hundred  summer  visitors  are  enabled  to  spend 
part  of  each  season  here.  The  Sunnyside,  at  North-west  Harbor,  is  the 
chief  hotel.  Most  of  the  summer  guests  come  from  New  York,  Phila- 
delphia, and  Washington,  and  the  Bostonians  do  not  seem  to  have 
discovered  the  locality.  Half  the  island  is  in  forest  and  half  in  farms, 
connected  by  fine  roads,  and  rising  here  and  there  into  lofty  sea- 
viewing  hills.  Along  the  shores  are  delightful  coves,  whose  \varm  salt 
waters  afford  the  best  of  bathing  for  invalids  and  children,  while  off- 
shore there  are  famous  fishing  and  boating.  Nearly  every  family  on  the 
island  has  one  or  more  members  on  the  sea,  and  every  school-boy  in 
its  thirty  districts  looks  forward  to  freedom  on  the  blue  main.  The 
ancient  church  dates  back  to  1773,  and  has  a  strong  membership 
among  these  grave,  thoughtful,  and  moral  islanders.  The  silver  mines 
which  have  been  in  operation  here  for  some  years  have  affected  the 
people  hardly  more  than  the  sheep  that  browse  on  the  breezy  hills,  or 
the  herons  in  the  lowland  marshes.  Across  the  surrounding  waters 
tower  the  noble  mountains  of  Camden  and  Mount  Desert,  and  many  a 
picturesque  rocky  islet  rises  through  the  fretted  blue  plain  of  the  bay. 
Over  all  flows  the  air,  —  the  wonderful  tonic  air,  always  in  motion,  and 
compounded  of  the  bracing  salty  breath  of  the  sea,  and  the  fragrant 
exhalations  of  the  great  island  forests  of  pine,  spruce,  and  hemlock. 
It  has  been  likened  to  the  atmosphere  of  the  Riviera,  between  Nice 
and  Bordighera,  or  that  of  the  upper  Adirondack  region.  Some  one 
has  happily  spoken  of  \hQ.joyous7iess  of  the  Deer- Isle  air,  in  which  are 
combined  the  softness  of  Italy  and  the  bracing  qualities  of  a  high 
northern  climate.  It  is  a  land  of  low  prices,  plain  living,  and  rest, 
unadapted  to  seekers  after  social  excitement,  but  just  the  thing  for 
tired  workers,  who  want  peace  and  the  truest  refreshment  of  nature. 

The  scenery  of  Penobscot  Bay  has  been  the  theme  of  praise  from 
countless  writers,  American  and  foreign,  in  prose  and  verse ;  and  year 
by  year  its  merits  become  more  widely  known  and  enthusiastically  cele- 
brated. Cruising  on  or  dwelling  by  these  embowered  waters,  amid  the 
brief  but  surpassing  splendors  of  the  northern  summer,  the  happy  idler 
gains  new  strength  with  every  breath,  and  fills  his  memory  with  lovely 


Penobscot  Bay.  1 1 1 

pictures  of  blended  sea  and  land  and  sky.  The  magnificent  hills  on 
either  side,  Camden  on  the  west,  Mount  Desert  on  the  east,  and  Isle- 
au-Haut  on  the  south,  are  among  the  choicest  beauties  of  New  Eng- 
land, clothed  with  a  rich  and  mystic  purple  by  the  sea-haze,  and  melt- 
ing off  in  bands  of  rich  foliage  down  to  the  peaceful  farms  below. 

The  islands  are  rich  in  variety,  from  miniature  continents,  a  dozen 
miles  long,  and  occupied  by  populous  communities,  down  to  lonely 
rocks,  over  which  the  high  tides  break  in  long  white  wreaths.  Perhaps 
their  chief  beauty  is  in  their  coronals  of  spruce  and  fir  trees,  graceful 
and  symmetrical  cones  rising  above  the  curving  channels,  and  filling 
the  air  with  a  strange  woodland  fragrance.  This  famous  archipelago, 
with  its  white  cottages,  well-tilled  farms,  and  flocks  of  grazing  sheep, 
forms  a  sort  of  agricultural  Yankee  Venice,  separated  in  summer  by 
myriads  of  lanes  of  blue  water,  and  joined  in  winter  by  crystal  sheets 
of  ice. 

These  intricate  avenues  of  water  have  been  admirably  surveyed  and 
charted,  and  afford  very  good  yachting-ground,  especially  with  the  aid 
of  the  encyclopaedic  and  loquacious  pilots  of  the  region.  And  whether 
the  traveller  crosses  by  the  northern  route,  through  the  Reach  (in  the 
City  of  Richmo7id) ,  or  across  the  centre,  by  the  Thoroughfare  (in  the 
Mount  Desert),  the  trip  will  be  found  full  of  interest  and  of  health- 
giving  change. 

The  romance  of  history  dwells  in  all  the  coves,  on  all  the  islands,  of 
this  lovely  Penobscot  region,  —  the  Norumbega  of  the  ancient  geogra- 
phers. It  is  impossible  to  tell  whether  the  old  Norse  vikings  who  cruised 
along  the  New-England  coasts  at  the  time  of  the  Crusades  visited  the 
bay,  or  not.  Perhaps  Cabot's  West-of-England  mariners  entered  these 
solitudes;  or  Cortereal's  Portuguese  explorers,  in  1500;  or  Verrazano's 
sturdy  Normans  and  Bretons,  in  1524;  or  the  Spanish  caravels  of  Estevan 
Gomez,  in  1525  ;  or  John  Rut's  good  English  ship,  the  Mary  of  Guil- 
ford. In  Ramusio's  geography,  this  land  of  Norumbega  appears  as 
"  abounding  in  all  kinds  of  fruit.  There  grow  oranges,  almonds,  wild 
grapes,  and  many  other  fruits  of  odoriferous  trees."  In  1556,  Thevet, 
a  French  scholar,  ascended  the  Penobscot  River,  then  called  by  the 
Indians ' Agoncy,  and  saw  great  villages  of  fur-clad  aborigines,  with 
whom  he  and  his  twenty  Frenchmen  held  long  and  merry  revels,  "  and, 


1 1 2  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

parting  from  them  with  great  contentment  upon  both  sides,  went  out 
upon  the  sea."  About  fifty  years  later,  Martin  Pring  and  De  Monts 
entered  the  bay  in  succession,  with  British  and  French  vessels,  followed 
by  Weymouth.  The  first  sea-fight  in  these  waters  took  place  on  a  July 
day  in  1643,  when  the  Massachusetts  ships  Gnyhoicud,  Increase,  Philip 
and  Mary,  and  Seabridge,  and  the  French  Huguenot  ship  Clement,  at- 
tacked D'Aulnay's  French  fleet,  and  drove  it  up  the  river,  during  a  hot 
contest,  in  which  the  thirty-eight  Puritan  cannon  made  deep  music 
among  the  island-aisles.  The  battles  and  adventures  of  the  last  two 
and  a  half  centuries  have  left  their  records  everywhere,  and  the  stu- 
dent of  history,  the  lover  of  romance,  finds  rare  pleasure  in  their 
annals. 


CAMDEN    AND    ITS    MOUNTAINS. 

Camden,  eight  miles  north  of  Rockland  (with  which  it  is  connected 
by  stage  and  steamboat),  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  towns  on  the 
American  coast,  passing  rich  in  its  mingled  charms  of  sea  and  mountain 
scenery,  and  already  attaining  a  notable  position  as  a  summer-resort. 
The  view  from  the  chief  village,  down  the  snug  little  harbor,  and  out 
across  and  between  the  islands  to  the  broader  expanse  of  Penobscot 
Bay,  is  full  of  beauty,  and  several  costly  summer-villas  have  been  erected 
on  the  adjacent  shores  and  points,  from  which  comfortably  circumstanced 
gentlemen  of  the  great  cities  down  the  seaboard  enjoy  the  delicious  air 
and  the  inspiring  prospect.  In  the  village  there  are  several  hotels  and 
boarding-houses,  which  are  well  filled  in  summer.  Among  the  various 
curious  manufactures  here  is  that  of  anchors,  of  the  best  and  most  re- 
liable quality.  There  are  also  ship-yards,  powder-mills,  and  other 
manufactories  ;  and  the  neighboring  villages  of  Rockport  and  Rockville 
have  other  industries,  besides  several  lucrative  lime-kilns.  The  crowning 
beauty  of  Camden  is  its  mountains,  the  lofty  blue  range,  which  for  cen- 
turies has  been  a  landmark  for  sailors  entering  Penobscot  Bay,  the 
ancient  Mathebestuck  Hills,  on  whose  account  the  Indians  named  this 
region    Megunticook,    "  the    land    of   great    sea-swells."     The    ancient 


Camden  and  its  Mountains.  1 13 

boundaries  between  the  domains  of  the  Tarratines  and  the  Kennebec 
tribes  lay  among  these  frowning  ridges,  which  are  still  almost  entirely 
clothed  with  forest-trees.  Mount  Megunticook,  twelve  hundred  and 
sixty-five  feet  high,  is  the  loftiest  of  the  five  Camden  peaks,  and  com- 
mands a  majestic  view  over  the  bay,  and  beyond  to  Mount  Desert  and 
out  on  the  open  sea,  and  across  hundreds  of  miles  of  inland  Maine  to 
Katahdin  and  the  White  Mountains  of  New  Hampshire.  Among  the 
glens  and  around  the  bases  of  the  mountains  there  are  several  beautiful 
drives,  leading  by  still  and  sequestered  lakes,  and  sweeping  over  high 
and  lonely  foot-hills,  amid  luxuriant  overarching  forests.  In  some  of 
these  deep  ravines  the  scenery  has  a  true  Tyrolese  aspect,  and  one 
might  fancy  that  the  great  resounding  sea  was  a  thousand  miles  away. 
But  the  road  soon  slopes  down  to  the  lowlands,  and  reaches  the  shore, 
where  the  long  salty  surges  beat  inward  from  the  breezy  East.  It  is  a 
realm  of  surprises,  and  in  the  not-distant  future  will  be  one  of  the  most 
favored  summer-resorts  of  this  great  national  park  called  Maine. 

The  finest  inland  scenery  hereabouts  is  along  the  shores  of  Lincoln- 
ville  Pond,  which  the  Indians  called  Megunticook,  and  the  old  settlers 
entitled  Molyneaux'  Pond,  in  memory  of  the  courtly  old  Huguenot 
gentleman  who  dwelt  for  many  years  on  the  rocky  knoll  at  its  foot,  and 
daily  traversed  the  adjacent  regions  of  sylvan  beauty  with  fishing-rod 
or  fowling-piece  in  hand.  The  pond  covers  nearly  a  square  mile. 
Several  other  lakelets  among  the  mountains  are  noted  for  their  great 
beauty  of  situation,  and  afford  good  sport  to  the  contemplative  fisher- 
man. 

The  snug  little  village  of  Kockport,  with  its  new  Carleton  House, 
is  on  a  pretty  harbor  a  mile  from  Camden,  and  boasts  of  several  active 
ship-yards,  and  hundreds  of  summer  visitors.  Back  among  the  hills 
are  the  great  forests,  almost  as  wild  as  in  the  old  days,  when  in  the 
woods  of  Camden  alone  James  Richards  killed  thirty  bears  and  seventy 
moose,  or  when  Metcalf,  the  mighty  hunter,  rode  a  bear  down  Mount 
Batty.  Richards's  wife,  Betty,  often  designated  one  of  the  peaks  near  the 
harbor  as  her  mountain,  and  the  obliging  farmers  always  spoke  of  it  as 
Betty's  Mountain,  which  has  latterly  been  Frenchified  into  Mount  Batty. 
The  view  from  the  top  of  Batty  includes  the  broad  bay  of  Penobscot, 
with    its    thronging    islands   and   bordering  villages,   and   the   remoter 


114  Summer  Days  Dozvn  East. 

heights  of  Monhegan,  Matinicus,  and  Mount  Desert.  Standing  here 
people  of  Camden  saw  the  sea-fight  between  the  Enterprise  and  Boxer. 
During  the  Revolutionary  War  the  British  made  several  forays  on 
this  town,  and  were  hotly  met  by  Ulmer's  ever-ready  minute-men. 
There  were  two  hundred  men,  including  a  company  of  Penobscot 
Indians,  in  barracks  at  Clam  Cove,  where  they  had  a  small  fort  and  a 
lonely  eighteen-pounder  gun,  which  mingled  its  roaring  with  that  of 
the  British  batteries  at  Castine,  when  the  news  of  peace  arrived. 
When  the  War  of  1812  broke  out,  the  citizens  erected  a  battery  on  the 
top  of  Mount  Batty,  nine  hundred  fjeet  high,  and  near  the  village,  and 
the  bold  Britons  avoided  any  contact  with  this  little  fortress  amid  the 
clouds.  It  appears  to  have  been  put  far  enough  out  of  the  way  to 
avoid  all  opportunity  to  receive  or  inflict  harm,  and  was  doubtless 
garrisoned  by  the  most  Falslaffian  of  militia-men.  The  gallant  little 
community  also  sent  a  company  into  the  9th  regiment  of  regulars, 
which  fought  in  the  battles  along  the  New  York  frontiers.  In  1814, 
when  the  British  frigate  Furiciise  lay  off  the  town,  the  5th  militia 
regiment  hurriedly  assembled  here  to  repel  an  attack.  It  is  said  that 
the  colonel  commanding  inspired  his  garrison  by  ordering  them  to 
hold  the  forts  until  the  last  moment;  "but,  should  you  be  under  the 
necessity  of  retreating,  you'll  find  me  out  back  of  Simon  Barrett's 
barn."  The  military  traditions  of  the  town  bore  good  fruit  later,  when 
the  integrity  of  the  Union  was  threatened,  and  three  hundred  sturdy 
volunteers  went  thence  into  the  hot  and  fatal  South,  where  nearly  one 
in  three  of  them  laid  down  their  lives.  The  town  was  named  in  honor 
of  Lord  Camden,  the  friend  of  America  in  Parliament,  who  character- 
ized the  arming  of  Indians  against  Americans  as  "  a  war  of  revenge, 
such  as  Moloch  in  Pandemonium  advised." 


Belfast  and  Northport.  1 1 5 


BELFAST    AND    NORTHPORT. 

Belfast  is  about  ten  miles  up  Penobscot  Bay,  a  quiet  little  city  of 
5,000  inhabitants,  founded  by  Scotch-Irish  people  in  1770,  tormented 
by  British  fleets  in  our  two  wars  with  the  mother-country,  and  often 
devastated  by  fires.  The  front  of  the  city  is  lined  with  gray  old 
wharves,  with  some  evidences  of  still  lingering  commerce,  the  masts 
of  the  vessels  forming  not  exactly  a  forest,  but  rather  an  irregular 
hedge-row,  up  to  the  mouth  of  the  Passagassawakeag  River.  Beyond 
these  is  the  brick  nucleus  of  the  city,  the  old-fashioned  business-blocks 
in  which  the  trading  of  Waldo  County  centres,  and  the  head-quarters 
of  the  local  newspapers  and  banks.  A  succession  of  long  streets, 
nearly  parallel  with  the  water-front,  follows  the  trend  of  the  hill,  one 
above  another,  delightful  terraces  of  homes  and  tree-avenues,  up  to 
the  summit,  nearly  one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  above  the  tide,  where 
from  Congress  street  one  looks  out  over  the  bay  and  down  even  to  the 
blue  ridges  of  Mount  Desert.  This  dreamy  old  sea-city  is  a  capital 
point  from  which  to  make  excursions,  for  its  people  are  great  lovers  of 
summer  recreation,  and  steamboats  leave  every  day  for  almost  all 
parts  of  Penobscot  Bay.  There  are  also  lines  of  stages  running  hence 
to  Searsmont,  Searsport,  Winterport,  Rockland,  Camden,  Belmont, 
Bangor,  and  all  parts  of  the  outlying  country.  The  Maine  Central 
trains  reach  this  point  in  about  five  and  a  half  hours  from  Portland, 
passing  through  Augusta  and  VVaterville. 

The  Northport  Wesleyan  Camp  Meeting  Ground  is  a  summer-port 
of  the  bay  steamers,  and  is  easily  and  quickly  reached  by  several 
modes  of  conveyance  from  the  neighboring  city  of  Belfast.  The 
August  camp-meeting  still  draws  thousands  of  visitors,  but  more 
important  than  this  has  become  the  city  of  summer-cottages  and 
hotels  among  the  groves,  open  to  the  delicious  breezes  from  the  bay, 
and  occupied  throughout  the  heated  season  by  a  joyous  population, 
continually  reinforced  by  crowded  steamboats  from  the  river-towub, 
A  vivacious  little  newspaper,  The  Sea  Breeze^  chronicles  the  gossip  of 


1 1 6  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

the  camp,  and  continually  records  new  devices  for  enjoying  the 
vacation-days.  About  a  mile  from  the  camp-ground,  and  reached  by 
a  good  carriage-road,  is  the  summit  of  Mount  Percival,  which  com- 
mands a  famous  view  over  the  bay  and  the  open  sea,  and  through  the 
mazes  of  countless  islands  off-shore. 

The  camp-meeting  ground  was  bought  by  the  East  Maine  Metho- 
dists in  1848,  and  the  first  cottage  dates  from  1869,  before  which  the 
summer-pilgrims  dwelt  in  tents,  as  many  still  do.  Steamboats  now 
ply  daily  between  this  sea-fronting  bluff  and  Islesborough,  Castine, 
Belfast,  and  all  the  other  ports  on  the  bay  and  river,  and  yachts  run 
out  from  the  snug  little  harbor  to  all  parts  of  the  bay.  Almost  the 
entire  shore  from  Belfast  down  is  occupied  by  summer-cottages,  and 
farther  south,  at  the  pretty  hamlet  of  Saturday  Cove,  is  a  favorite 
haunt  of  other  vacation  tourists. 

Searsport  is  a  pretty  village  of  white  houses,  peeping  from  the  trees 
which  line  its  streets.  It  has  about  2,000  inhabitants,  and  is  connected 
with  Belfast,  six  miles  southward,  by  a  stage-line.  Its  little  harbor  is 
sheltered  by  Sears  Island,  the  ancient  Brigadier  Island,  on  which 
appears  the  comfortable  summer-mansion  of  the  Scars  family  of  Boston, 
whose  great-grandfather,  David  Sears,  was  the  chief  proprietor  of  the 
adjacent  town. 

FORT  POINT  AND  BUCKSPORT. 

Fort  Point  is  now  secure  of  fame  and*  favor  as  a  first-class  summer- 
resort,  and  annually  receives  thousands  of  visitors  from  the  great  cities, 
who  find  ample  amusement  in  sailing  and  fishing  in  the  adjacent  waters 
of  the  bay,  in  rambling  over  the  beautiful  peninsula,  in  riding  among 
the  picturesque  hill-towns  on  the  north,  and  in  dancing,  banqueting, 
and  comfortably  resting  amid  the  flowers  and  groves  and  piazzas  of  the 
hotel.  A  perpetual  cool  breeze  draws  across  this  magnificent  peninsular 
bluff,  upon  which  rise  the  long  walls  of  the  hotel,  looking,  from  miles 
away  down  the  bay,  like  a  huge  stranded  line-of-battle  ship,  and  com- 
manding, in  return,  a  view  which  includes  many  leagues  of  dancing 
waves,  fringed  with  wooded  islands,  and  overlooked  by  far-away  blue 
mountains.      After  several  years  of  but  partial  success,  the  Fort-Point 


Fort  Point  and  Buck  sport.  1 1 7 

House  appears  to  have  entered  into  the  flood  tide  of  favor,  and  is  vis- 
ited by  larger  and  larger  companies  each  returning  season. 

The  fort  on  this  commanding  promontory  was  a  substantial  work 
of  stone,  three  hundred  and  sixty  feet  around,  with  flankarts  at  the 
corners,  cJievaiix-de-frise  in  the  deep  moat,  a  drawbridge  and  port- 
cullis, and  a  massive  interior  block-house  surmounted  by  a  sentry-tower, 
and  garnished  with  a  dozen  cannon  and  several  cohorn  mortars.  It 
was  built  in  1758-59,  by  Governor  Pownall,  of  Massachusetts,  to  pro- 
tect the  Penobscot  settlements  from  attacks  by  sea  or  land  ;  and  the 
British  Parliament  paid  for  its  construction.  After  the  French  wars 
ceased  this  became  a  great  trading-post,  to  which  the  Indians  brought 
their  stores  of  beaver,  sable,  and  otter  skins.  The  garrison  abandoned 
the  works  when  the  Revolution  broke  out.  The  British  frigate  Canseaii 
disarmed  and  partly  demolished  it  in  1775  ;  and  four  years  later  a  de- 
tachment of  Americans,  under  Capt.  Cargill,  completed  the  work  of  de- 
struction. Some  slight  remains  of  the  ancient  fort  are  still  visible,  and 
afford  pleasant  rambling-ground  for  the  summer  visitors.  The  tall 
light-house  on  the  extreme  point  marks  the  head  of  Penobscot  Bay. 
The  adjacent  mainland  was  settled  by  veterans  of  the  French  wars  and 
retired  fur-traders.  General  Waldo,  the  founder  of  the  chief  colonies 
in  this  part  of  Maine,  was  buried  on  Fort  Point,  but  some  years  later 
his  remains  were  carried  to  their  present  tomb  in  King's  Chapel  bury- 
ing-ground,   at  Boston. 

Bucksport  is  one  of  the  loveliest  villages  on  the  Penobscot,  and 
rises  conspicuously  from  the  swift  currents  of  the  Narrows,  its  steep 
streets  being  laid  out  regularly  along  a  picturesque  slope,  whose  summit 
is  crowned  by  the  rectangular  brick  buildings  of  the  East  Maine 
Conference  Seminary.  It  has  upwards  of  2,000  inhabitants,  and  in 
summer  the  population  is  much  augmented  by  people  who  explore  the 
adjacent  hill  and  lake  country.  This  territory  was  granted  by  William 
and  Mary  of  England  to  sundry  stout  burghers  of  Haverhill,  and  set- 
tled in  1762  by  Colonel  Jonathan  Buck  and  other  pioneers.  Seventeen 
years  later  a  part  of  the  village  was  burned  by  a  British  naval  foray. 
The  immense  and  costly  defences  of  Fort  Knox,  on  the  bluff  opposite, 
present. a  very  imposing  appearance  from  the  river,  and  were  designed 
to  protect  the  towns  above  from  future  molestation. 


1 1 8  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

Bucksport  is  said  to  be  eighteen  miles  from  everywhere,  that  being 
its  distance  from  Bangor,  Ellsworth,  and  Castine.  With  the  former 
point  it  is  connected  by  the  Eastern  Maine  Raih'oad,  running  along  the 
river,  and  connecting  with  the  Maine  Central  line,  by  which  travellers 
may  come  hither  from  Portland  in  seven  hours. 

Winterport,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Penobscot,  above  the  widen- 
ings  of  Marsh  Bay,  is  a  decadent  village  of  2,000  inhabitants,  once 
celebrated  for  its  ship-building  and  commerce,  but  now  quietly  fading 
away  among  the  sleepy  river-hills.  It  has  rich  farms  inland,  and  at 
the  port  a  contented  community  of  citizens,  with  houses  distinguished 
for  neatness  and  comfort.  The  view  from  the  lofty  hill  on  which 
stands  the  soldiers'  monument  is  famous  for  its  extent  and  beauty. 


CASTINE. 

Castine  is  reached  by  the  steamboat  in  two  hours  from  Rockland, 
or  by  steamers  from  Belfast  and  Bangor,  or  by  stage  from  Bucksport, 
about  eighteen  miles.  It  is  a  lovely  old  village  of  about  a  thousand 
inhabitants,  and  stands  on  the  harborward  slope  of  a  high  ridge  which 
overlooks  for  many  leagues  the  fascinating  scenery  of  Penobscot  Bay 
and  its  purple  hills.  A  very  pleasant  illustrated  article  on  this  town, 
written  by  Noah  Brooks,  appeared  in  the  Century  Magazine  for  Sep- 
tember, 1882.  The  little  fort  now  overlooking  the  harbor  was  built 
during  the  late  Secession  War;  and  farther  back  are  remains  of  the 
old  American  siege-works,  erected  by  Paul  Revere  and  Pcleg  Wads- 
worth  (Longfellow's  grandfather),  and  fragments  of  the  luiglish  and 
French  batteries.  There  are  distinct  traces  of  more  than  twenty 
fortifications  on  this  little  peninsula,  which  was  an  important  garrisoned 
post  for  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  and  has  seen  many 
days  of  conflict,  and  the  rise  and  fall  of  many  a  proud  standard. 
Scores  of  legends  still  cling  to  the  abandoned  batteries  and  to  the 
stately  old  houses  on  the  shadowy  village  streets.  Among  the  young 
subalterns  stationed  here  during  the  British  occupation  were  several, 
like  Sir  John  Moore,  who  afterwards  achieved  great  renown. 


Cast  me.  119 

Hundreds  of  visitors  come  hither  every  summer,  living  at  tlic 
Acadian  House  and  the  numerous  boarding-houses  near  by,  and,  as 
Noah  Brooks  says,  "he  who  comes  once  comes  again  and  again." 
They  sail  and  fish  among  the  adjacent  islands  and  coves,  or  ramble 
about  the  quaint  old  village  and  the  adjacent  woods,  or  take  buckboard 
rides  among  the  hills  beyond,  or  make  excursions  on  the  steamboats 
up  and  down  the  bay.  The  stores  are  small  and  dull,  the  wharves  are 
dilapidated,  and  the  village-life  seems  listless  and  drowsy;  but  many  a 
quaint  old  house  rises  among  the  environing  trees  of  the  upper  streets, 
and  the  ladies  of  the  old  families  still  exemplify  the  antique  culture 
of  their  ancestors,  when  this  was  a  brilliant  garrison  town. 

The  history  of  Castine  is  full  of  epic  grandeur.  Thevet,  who 
explored  the  bay  in  1555,  said  that  long  before  that  time  a  French  fort 
had  been  razed  hereabouts.  In  161 3  the  lively  French  traders  erected 
another  little  castle  here,  which  was  visited  by  Captain  John  Smith. 
The  Plymouth  Company  fortified  the  Pentagoet  peninsula  in  1626, 
under  the  direction  of  Isaac  Allerton ;  but  it  was  captured  by  the 
French  in  1632,  and  three  years  later  became  French  territory,  held  by 
the  Sieur  D'Aulnay,  and  one  of  the  centres  of  the  long  war  between 
this  Catholic  chief  and  the  grim  Huguenot  La  Tour,  holding  a  feudal 
lordship  to  the  eastward.  Friar  Leo  erected  a  Capuchin  chapel  here, 
under  the  influence  of  Cardinal  Richelieu,  and  in  1654  the  Puritans 
swooped  down  from  the  sea  and  occupied  the  place  under  orders  from 
Oliver  Cromwell.  In  1667  came  Vincent,  the  Baron  of  St.  Castin,  and 
lord  of  Ol^ron,  in  the  Pyrenees,  who  had  been  colonel  of  the  Royal 
Carignan  Regiment,  but  came  across  the  seas  and  married  the  dusky 
daughter  of  Madockawando,  the  sachem  of  the  Tarratine  Indians.  If 
he  had  been  a  Parsee  the  Indians  would  have  worshipped  fire  with  him, 
so  deeply  did  they  reverence  this  gallant  seignior ;  but,  since  he  was  a 
stanch  Roman  Catholic,  they  made  to  themselves  rosaries,  and 
became  devout  children  of  Rome.  The  port  was  fortified  again  in 
1670  by  the  Chevalier  de  Grandfontaine,  acting  under  the  orders  of 
Colbert,  the  French  statesman.  In  1674  a  Dutch  fleet,  under  Captain 
Jurriaen  Aernoots,  captured  Pentagoet ;  and  thirteen  years  later  it  was 
plundered  again  by  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  in  the  frigate  Rose.  St.  Castin 
retaliated  by  the  destruction  of  Pemaquid,  and  after  thirty  years  of  life 


1 20  Stiminer  Days  Down  East. 

with  his  savage  clan  he  returned  to  La  Belle  France.  One  of  his  half- 
Indian  sons  followed  him,  twenty  years  after,  and  became  Lord  of 
Oleron,  while  another  remained,  and  perpetuated  the  line  of  Tarratine 
chieftains.  The  tribe  remained  under  the  government  of  St.  Castin's 
descendants  until  the  year  i860. 

In  1799  General  McLean  and  seven  hundred  British  troops  of  the 
74th  and  83d  Regiments  captured  Castine  and  fortified  its  approaches, 
where  he  was  speedily  attacked  by  a  Massachusetts  fleet  and  army, 
composed  of  nineteen  war-vessels,  mounting  three  hundred  and  forty- 
four  guns,  with  twenty-four  transports,  and  two  thousand  soldiers.  After 
several  repulses  the  Americans  secured  a  footing  on  the  peninsula,  and 
opened  a  lively  bombardment  from  land-batteries.  Suddenly  a  British 
fleet  of  seven  large  frigates,  under  Sir  George  Collier,  entered  the  bay 
and  boldly  attacked  the  American  squadron,  whose  vessels  fled  away 
up  the  bay,  hotly  pursued,  and  one  by  one  were  burnt  or  blown  up, 
or  driven  ashore.  The  American  army  retreated  in  detachments  to 
the  settlements  on  the  Kennebec ;  and  the  British  flag  floated  peace- 
fully over  Castine  until  the  end  of  the  war,  four  years  later.  In  the 
years  18 14  and  18 15,  again,  the  little  town  was  garrisoned  by  two 
brigades  of  red-coatS  under  General  Gosselin,  who  kept  the  bay-towns 
in  terror  for  many  a  harassing  month.  The  British  fleet  was  composed 
of  the  ships-of-thc-line  Bulwark,  Spoicej',  and  Dragon;  the  frigates 
Bacchante  and  Tcnedos;  the  Sylph,  Peruvian,  and  Pictou;  and  ten 
transports.  The  little  American  garrison  of  forty  regulars  exchanged 
a  few  shots  with  this  formidable  armada,  and  then  blew  \\\)  the  fort  and 
retreated  up  the  river. 

Dice's  Head,  at  the  mouth  of  the  beautiful  island-gemmed  harbor, 
is  a  promontory  of  evergreen  groves,  dowered  with  a  medicinal  spring, 
and  commanding  a  broad  view  over  Penobscot  Bay  and  its  mountain- 
walls.  Summer-cottages  crown  its  rocky  cliffs,  and  hither  come  many 
picnic  parties  from  the  bay  and  river  towns. 

Beautiful  views  are  afiordcd  from  the  summit  of  Kench's  Mountain, 
and  from  the  Walker  farm,  on  the  adjacent  mainland  of  Brooksvillc, 
amid  an  ancient  and  democratic  farming  region,  and  around  the  shores 
of  Walker's  Pond,  and  down  to  the  legend-haunted  cliffs  of  Cape 
Rosier. 


Mount  Desert.  121 


MOUNT    DESERT. 

Nowhere  else  on  the  North-Atlantic  coast  is  there  such  a  grand 
combination  of  scenery,  of  forest  and  lake,  mountain  and  glen,  sound 
and  bay,  beach  and  promontory,  trout-brook  and  open  sea,  as  is  found 
on  this  wonderful  island  of  Mount  Desert,  which  has  become  of  late 
years  one  of  the  most  delightful  and  fashionable  of  resorts.  In  the 
hundred  square  miles  of  the  island  there  are  thirteen  well-defined 
mountains  and  seventeen  lakes  and  ponds.  Among  the  remoter  glens 
are  the  homes  of  deer,  foxes,  and  minks,  and  virgin  pastures  of  rich 
flowers  and  luscious  berries.  The  magnificent  coloring  of  these  far 
northern  woods  and  waters  rivals  that  of  the  Mediterranean  shores. 
The  perfect  sapphire  of  the  sea  reflects  the  overarching  sky,  and  is 
framed  by  gray  and  pink  and  brown  cliffs,  light-green  meadow-lands, 
silvery  beaches,  and  surging  leagues  of  dark  forest. 

The  history  of  the  island  abounds  in  romance.  The  Indians 
called  it  Pemctic,  meaning  "  that  which  is  at  the  head  "  ;  and  Champlain, 
the  French  discoverer,  in  1604  called  it  the  Island  of  the  Desert 
Mountains  {Monts  Deserts).  In  1603  Henri  IV.  of  France  granted  it 
to  the  Sieur  de  Monts;  and  the  priests  Du  Thet,  Biard,  and  Masse, 
with  thirty  colonists,  founded  the  mission-settlernent  of  St.  Sauveur, 
on  Fernald's  Point,  in  Somes's  Sound.  This  town  was  destroyed  in 
161 3  by  Captain  Argall  and  a  ship  from  Virginia,  and  Du  Thet,  slain 
in  the  fight,  was  buried  at  St.  Sauveur.  In  1691  Louis  XIV.  granted 
the  island  to  M.  de  la  Motte  Cadillac,  whose  grand-daughter,  Marie 
Therese  de  Gregoire,  secured  from  Massachusetts  a  ratification  of  the 
grant,  in  1764,  and  lived  at  Hull's  Cove  until  her  death,  in  18 10. 

The  's>\.Q.-Si\VLQ.x  Mount  Desert,  on  its  way  to  the  island,  runs  through 
the  very  picturesque  Fox-Island  Thoroughfare,  crosses  Isle-au-Haut 
Bay,  with  the  purple  heights  of  Isle-au-Haut  on  the  right;  touches  at 
Green's  Landing,  on  Deer  Isle;  crosses  Blue-Hill  Sound,  by  Swan's 
Island  and  the  Placentia  Isles,  and  then  cruises  around  the  Mount- 
Desert   coast,  touching   at   Bass    Harbor,  South-west  Harbor,  and   Bar 


122  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

Harbor,  connecting  there  with  a  small  steamer  running  northward  up 
Frenchman's  Bay  to  Sulhvan  and  East  Lamoine.  The  City  of  RicJi- 
moiid  runs  direct  from  Rockland  through  the  Thoroughfare,  and  touches 
only  at  South-west  Harbor  and  Bar  Harbor.  The  Lewiston  ascends 
Penobscot  Bay  from  Rockland  to  Castine ;  then  rounds  Cape  Rosier 
and  traverses  the  beautiful  Eggemoggin  Reach,  stopping  at  North  Deer 
Isle  and  Sedgwick;  passes  Naskeag  Point  and  across  Blue-Hill  Bay, 
with  noble  peaks  in  front  and  on  the  left;  runs  around  Bass  Harbor 
Head,  and  touches  at  South-west  Harbor  and  Bar  Harbor. 

People  who  fear  sea-sickness  come  to  Mount  Desert,  by  the  stage- 
route,  in  eight  hours  from  Bangor;  others  descend  the  Penobscot  from 
the  same  city  in  the  steamboats  which  run  thence  to  the  island  daily; 
others  take  the  daily  Mount-Desert  steamers  at  Rockland,  which  is 
reached  by  rail  from  Portland  and  Boston;  and  others  sail  into  the 
harbor  in  yachts,  amid  great  din  of  salutes  and  show  of  dipping  flags 
from  the  pleasure-fleet  at  anchor  there. 

South-west  Harbor,  south-west  of  the  entrance  of  Somes's  Sound, 
and  commanding  a  view  through  the  mountain-gorge  up  to  its  head,  and 
out  to  several  groups'of  islands  in  the  deep  sea,  is  one  of  the  best  points 
from  which  to  make  excursions  through  the  finest  scenery  of  Mount 
Desert,  to  Bass  Harbor,  the  Sea  Wall,  Long  Pond,  Fcrnald's  Cove,  and 
Somesville,  affording  very  inspiring  views  of  sea  and  shore  and  mountain- 
peak.  It  is  an  easy  drive  thence  to  Great  Pond,  the  chief  of  the  island- 
lakes,  eight  miles  long,  between  two  shaggy  mountain-ranges,  and 
abounding  in  fine  trout.  Echo  Lake,  five  miles  out,  lies  deep-set  be- 
tween a  huge  perpendicular  cliff  and  a  mountain  covered  with  unbroken 
woods.  On  one  of  the  islands  off-shore  several  hundred  Russians  en- 
camped, when,  during  the  recent  Russo-Turkish  war,  the  great  northern 
empire  expected  to  be  drawn  into  hostilities  with  lingland,  and  the 
Russian  steamer  Cinibria  lay  off  Mount  Desert  for  five  months,  awaiting 
the  event. 

North-east  Harbor  is  a  romantic  and  almost  landlocked  cove,  east- 
ward of  the  mouth  of  Somes's  Sound,  and  insids  of  Bear-Island  light- 
house and  the  Cranberry  Isles.  It  is  a  very  small  village,  with  Kimball's 
neat  inn  as  its  centre,  and  the  grandest  possible  scenery  of  sea  and 
sound  and  mountain  all  around.     In  the  vicinity  are  the  summer-man- 


Mount  Desert.  123 

sions  of  President  Eliot,  of  Harvard  University,  and  Bishop  Doane,  of 
the  Episcopal  diocese  of  Albany.  Eastward  of  this  point  is  Seal  Har- 
bor, with  two  handsome  hotels,  and  a  wharf  at  which  the  steamboats 
sometimes  stop.  The  views  thence  to  the  south-east,  out  over  the  open 
sea,  and  through  the  islands  to  the  south,  are  rich  in  variety  and 
grandeur.  The  Cranberry  Isles,  which  lie  off-shore,  are  five  in  number, 
forming  a  township  of  above  300  inhabitants,  with  a  Methodist  church, 
a  public  library,  four  schools,  two  light-houses,  and  many  establishments 
for  the  curing  of  fish. 

Somes's  Sound  cleaves  the  island  half  in  two,  its  wild  and  lonely 
waters  entering  for  leagues  into  the  breast  of  the  mountains,  its  com- 
mingled odors  of  salty  sea  and  piny  forests  perfuming  the  delightful  air. 
It  is  an  arm  of  the  sea  that  resembles  a  deep  tidal  river,  a  Norwegian 
fiord,  cutting  its  way  through  barriers  of  rocky  cliffs  and  ranges  of 
frowning  hills,  and  rippling  across  secluded  mountain-glades,  overhung 
with  sombre  dark  forests.  The  inner  recesses  and  coves  of  this  noble 
sound  have  a  solemn  beauty,  rich  in  wonderful  contrasts  of  light  and 
shade,  and  reflecting  line  after  line  of  huge  and  inaccessible  peaks, 
known  only  to  the  deer  and  the  eagle.  In  the  morning  one  may  catch 
cod  in  the  deep  sea,  and  a  few  hours  later  may  entice  the  spotted  trout 
from  his  cool  seclusion  in  a  mountain-tarn. 

Agassiz  sa}'s  that  "  Mount  Desert  was  once  a  miniature  Spitzbergen, 
and  colossal  icebergs  floated  off  from  Somes's  Sound."  The  summer 
temperature  now  ranges  from  sixty  to  seventy  degrees,  with  a  remarka- 
bly pure  and  bracing  air,  sometimes  charged  with  fog;  and  people  who 
go  out  riding  or  sailing  always  carry  extra  wraps,  to  provide  against  occa- 
sional cold  sea-turns.  The  frequency  of  sudden  flaws  of  wind  along 
Somes's  Sound,  flying  down  out  of  the  gorges,  renders  it  necessary  to 
sail  here  with  great  caution.  In  time  a  steamboat  will  ply  between 
Somesville  and  the  outer  harbors,  and  then  this  scenery,  which  has  been 
likened  to  the  Hudson  Highlands,  or  Lake  George,  can  be  enjoyed  at 
its  best. 

In  1609,  Hendrick  Hudson,  while  on  his  way  south  to  discover  the 
river  which  immortalizes  his  name,  sailed  into  Somes's  Sound,  and 
opened  upon  the  amazed  natives  with  his  roaring  Dutch  artillery.  The 
first  American  settler  was  Abraham  Somes,  of  Gloucester,  who,  in  1760, 


1 24  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

established  his  home  at  the  head  of  the  wonderful  fiord  which  still  bears 
his  name;  and  a  few  years  later  several  families  from  Cape  Cod  occu- 
pied the  other  coves  around  the  shores.  Somesville  is  one  of  the 
quietest  of  country  villages,  on  a  picturesque,  hill-girt,  tidal  bay  in  the 
heart  of  the  island,  with  two  or  three  small  hotels,  which  are  much  fre- 
quented by  driving  parties  from  Bar  Haibor,  following  the  road  around 
the  head  of  the  Sound. 

Bar  Harbor,  the  summer  capital  of  the  island,  derives  its  name 
from  a  sandy  bar  which  runs  out  thence  to  one  of  the  Porcupine  Islands, 
and  faces  on  the  broad  reaches  of  Frenchman's  Bay.  In  1868  the 
Agamont  Hotel  and  a  k\w  farm-houses,  were  the  only  buildings  here- 
abouts ;  but  the  caprice  of  fashion  and  the  rich  advantages  of  the 
locality  have  brought  about  a  wonderful  change,  and  now  the  shore  is 
lined  with  magnificent  villas  and  parks,  —  the  homes  of  the  Searses, 
Ogdens,  Musgraves,  Howes,  and  other  patrician  families,  —  while  beyond 
are  streets  provided  with  all  the  appliances  of  modern  city  life,  and 
lined  with  metropolitan  stores  and  huge  hotels.  The  strip  along  the 
water-front,  with  its  spacious  houses,  in  quaint  and  picturesque  archi- 
tecture, is  a  down-east  Newport;  the  great  village  above  is  a  combina- 
tion of  Bethlehem  and  Old  Orchard. 

The  new  town  has  admirable  streets,  a  fire  department  with  a  steam 
fire-engine,  water- works  dependent  on  the  crystalline  Eagle  Lake,  a  new 
high  school,  a  complicated  and  efficient  system  of  sewers ;  churches 
for  Episcopalians,  Roman  Catholics,  and  Methodists;  two  bright  and 
gossipy  newspapers  ;  lecture-courses,  a  skating  rink,  and  a  public  library. 

Upwards  of  $5,000,000  has  been  invested  here,  and  real  estate 
commands  enormous  prices.  The  unknown  little  hamlet  of  fishermen 
gave  place  to  a  village  of  somewhat  primitive  summer  boarding-houses, 
and  this,  in  turn,  has  been  metamorphosed  into  a  fashionable  town, — 
the  royal  summer-resort  of  Maine;  the  pearl  of  that  wonderful  three 
thousand  miles  of  sinous  coast  which  stretches  from  Kittery  Point  to 
Quoddy  Head. 

In  its  early  days  Mount  Desert  was  the  paradise  of  the  unconven- 
tional, where  comfortably  clad  summer-idlers  unbent  their  year-long 
city  formalisms,  and  indulged  in  all  manner  of  fishing  and  sailing,  clam- 
bering over  the  rocks  and  up  the  mountains,   long  buckboard    rides, 


Mount  Desert.  125 

and  other  rural  amusements.  Of  late  years  this  freedom  of  recreation 
has  been  growing  more  restricted,  and  the  inmates  of  the  cottages  and 
the  habitues  of  the  great  hotels  appear  to  be  introducing  somewhat 
of  the  stately  decorum  of  Newport  and  Nahant.  When  the  French 
dress-maker  asks,  "What  are  Mademoiselle's  commands  for  summer- 
costume?"  Miss  Knickerbocker  answers,  "Oh,  something  that  will 
look  well  against  a  rock.  I  am  going  to  Mount  Desert."  The  first  sum- 
mer-cottage here  was  built  by  the  Hon.  Alpheus  Hardy,  of  Boston,  and 
Governeur  M.  Ogden  was  the  pioneer  of  the  New  York  colonists.  Now 
every  picturesque  cove  and  headland  along  the  adjacent  shore  is  oc- 
cupied by  gems  of  rural  architecture  :  old-English  cottages,  —  houses 
which  suggest  Queen  Anne,  —  dignified  mansions  rising  from  velvety 
lawns,  —  snug  lodges  dominating  lovely  curving  beaches,  and  high- 
towered  villas  among  the  deep  pine  woods  a  thousand  feet  above.  The 
season  for  the  cottagers  begins  early  in  June,  and  lasts  into  September. 
So  predominant  has  this  element  become,  that  it  warrants  the  annual 
issue  of  a  very  pretty  illustrated  Blue  Book,  which  gives  the  names  and 
places  of  residence  of  the  cottage  aristocracy. 

There  are  many  romantic  rambles  in  the  vicinity,  and  it  is  in  good 
form  to  walk  here,  and  to  climb  the  rocks  and  mountains,  and  clamber 
along  the  shore-cliffs,  in  strong  and  serviceable  garments.  Thus  the 
young  men  and  maidens  haunt  the  coast-line  towards  Cromwell's  Har- 
bor and  Saul's  Cliffs ;  or  ascend  the  gorges  of  Duck  Brook ;  or  look 
down  on  Bar  Harbor  from  the  top  of  Kebo ;  or  gain  the  grand  view 
from  the  crest  of  Newport  Mountain  ;  or  go  down  along  the  beach  at 
low  tide,  and  study  the  various  fascinating  forms  of  marine  life.  The 
variety  of  rambles  in  every  direction  is  almost  inexhaustible,  and  the 
views  are  rich  in  all  elements  of  grandeur  and  beauty.  Whoever  has 
De  Costa's  "Mount  Desert"  for  the  history,  and  the  Blue  Book  for  a 
topographical  guide,  and  "Golden  Rod,"  or  "The  Summer  School  of 
Philosophy,"  or  "  The  Confessions  of  a  Frivolous  Girl,"  or  "  Mrs.  Beau- 
champ  Brown,"  for  the  study  of  the  humanities,  cannot  fail  of  abundant 
entertainment  and  health-giving  diversion.  The  costumes  of  the  ladies 
are  brilliant  beyond  description,  and  bravely  light  up  the  dark  rocks 
and  groves;  and  the  young  men,  in  their  knee-breeches  and  odd  jackets, 
present  a  more  noteworthy  appearance,  certainly,  than  they  do  in  our 


1 26  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

city  streets.  The  buckboard,  which  Hassard  describes  as  "long  as  an 
obelisk,  and  as  hard  to  turn,"  and  some  one  else  calls  "  a  cross  between 
a  see-saw  and  a  hammock,"  is  the  favorite  vehicle  for  driving  parties, 
and  also  finds  practical  use  in  transporting  that  class  of  the  community 
known  as  "  hauled  mealers." 

The  rise  and  fall  of  the  tide  here  is  upwards  of  fifteen  feet,  and  the 
high  isthmus  which  leads  at  ebb  tide  to  Bar  Island,  the  old  Rodick 
homestead,  is  covered  with  deep  water  at  full  tide.  South-east  of  the 
harbor  is  Porcupine  Island,  with  cliffs  of  jagged  rock  two  hundred  feet 
high,  facing  the  sea.  This  noble  solitude  was  bought  by  Gen.  Fremont 
for  $500;  but  when  financial  disasters  overtook  the  great  Pathfinder  of 
the  West,  he  was  constrained  to  relinquish  this,  with  many  other  posses- 
sions. Near  the  village  is  an  encampment  of  Penobscot  Indians,  tall, 
good-natured,  lazy  fellows,  with  plenty  of  gaudily-dressed  squaws  and 
pappooses,  who  make  great  numbers  of  baskets,  canoes,  and  other 
barbaric  curiosities,  which  are  eagerly  bought  up  by  the  visitors.  Some 
of  these  half-French  and  entirely-Romish  aborigines  are  among  the 
best  boatmen  at  Bar  Harbor,  and  carry  their  delighted  white  patrons  far 
out  on  the  breezy  bay  in  their  light  birch  canoes. 

It  is  nearly  three  miles  from  Bar  Harbor  to  Eagle  Lake,  that  lonely 
inland  water  to  which  Church,  the  famous  artist,  gave  its  name.  Here 
are  trout  innumerable,  and  boats  in  which  to  seek  them  ;  and  not  far 
distant  are  the  favorite  fishing-grounds  of  Jordan's  Pond.  About  the 
same  distance  from  Bar  Harbor  to  the  southward  is  the  fine  gorge 
between  Newport  and  Dry  Mountains,  which  has  been  likened  to  the 
notches  of  New  Hampshire.  The  road  between  Newport  and  the  bay 
leads  to  Schooner  Head,  a  bold  rocky  promontory,  against  which  the 
Atlantic  surges  rush,  bursting  up  through  the  famous  Spouting  Horn,  in 
its  top.  A  little  way  below  is  Anemone  Cave,  famous  for  its  beautiful 
sea-anemones,  and  further  down  rises  the  frowning  cliff  of  Great  Head, 
sheltering  the  only  good  beach  on  the  island.  Beyond  the  gorge  under 
Dry  Mountain,  the  road  descends  to  the  Otter-Creek  Clifls,  one  hundred 
and  twelve  feet  high,  nearly  two  miles  from  Great  Head.  Northward 
of  Bar  Harbor  the  road  leads  along  the  rugged  coast  to  Duck  Brook 
and  Hull's  Cove,  and  by  the  slaty  and  sea-beaten  caverns  called  the 
Ovens,  and  the  Gothic-pointed  cliffs  of  the  Cathedral. 


Mount  Desert.  127 

The  ascent  of  Green  Mountain  is  made  by  a  railway  similar  to 
that  on  Mount  Washington,  built  in  1883,  ascending  from  Eagle 
Lake  by  a  grade  of  one  in  three,  the  station  being  reached  by  a  steam- 
boat sail  of  three  miles  over  the  lake,  from  a  point  two  and  a  half 
miles  from  Bar  Harbor.  The  summit  is  four  miles  from,  and  fifteen 
hundred  feet  above.  Bar  Harbor,  and  may  also  be  reached  by  a  steep 
carriage- road.  On  the  summit  is  a  little  inn,  formerly  much  patronized 
by  persons  who  stayed  on  the  summit  all  night,  in  order  to  see  the  sun 
rise.  The  view  is  magnificent,  and  includes  leagues  on  leagues  of  open 
sea,  the  gem-like  outer  islands,  the  long  levels  of  Frenchman's  Bay,  the 
great  mountains  from  Interlaken  Hill  to  Katahdin,  and  bits  of  Eagle 
Lake  and  Somes's  Sound.  Five  thousand  persons  visit  this  peak  every 
year;  and  now  that  the  route  has  been  made  at  once  easier,  cheaper,  and 
more  interesting,  the  number  will  greatly  increase. 

At  the  head  of  Frenchman's  Bay  are  the  quiet  old  towns  of  Han- 
cock and  Sullivan,  the  first  noted  for  its  gallant  fishermen,  and  the  noble 
scenery  of  Crabtree's  Neck,  and  the  second  for  its  vast  granite  quarries, 
silver  mines,  and  ship-yards.  At  Sullivan  is  the  spacious  and  com^fort- 
able  Waukeag  House,  a  well-known  summer-resort  near  the  salt  water. 
Gouldsborough.  across  the  bay  from  Bar  Harbor,  is  a  rugged  land  of 
hills,  abounding  in  mines,  and  fringed  with  pretty  little  harbors  and  bold 
islands. 

The  coast  towns  between  Frenchman's  Bay  and  Passamaquoddy 
Bay  are  Steuben,  the  home  of  hardy  fishermen ;  Millbridge,  the  port 
of  the  great  lumber-mills  of  Cherryfield;  Harrington,  with  a  lofty  obe- 
lisk of  white  marble  erected  to  the  memory  of  its  soldier  dead ;  Addi- 
son, with  a  quarry  of  fine  black  granite ;  Jonesport,  projecting  far  sea- 
ward, amid  its  tributary  islands ;  Jonesborough,  rich  in  admirable  red 
granite,  now  much  used  for  fine  work  in  the  cities ;  Machiasport,  on  a 
splendid  harbor,  where  ship-yards  abound,  and  the  port  of  the  prosper- 
ous town  of  Machias,  famous  in  colonial  and  Revolutionary  history; 
Whiting,  a  great  hilly  township  with  few  inhabitants ;  Cutler,  looking 
out  on  the  Bay  of  Fundy;  Trescott,  a  sea-fronting  Roman  Catholic 
town  ;  and  Lubec,  populous  and  beautifully  situated,  with  Grand  Manan 
on  one  side,  and  Campobello  on  the  other.  It  is  a  wild  and  picturesque 
shore,  cut  into  by  deep  fiords,  and  fronted  by  lines  of  lovely  islands. 


BANGOR    AND     THE     NORTHERN 

EOREST. 


BANGOR. 

ANGOR  is  at  the  head  of  navigation  on  the  Penobscot  River, 
sixty  miles  from  the  sea,  and  has  about  18,000  inhabitants, 
with  the  true  Yankee  liberaHty  of  churches,  schools,  and  news- 
papers, great  hotels,  and  busy  streets  of  stores  and  offices. 
It  was  first  settled  in  1769,  on  the  Indian  domain  of  Kendus- 
keag,  and  derived  its  name  from  the  venerable  psalm-tune  of 
Bangor,  then  a  favorite  melody  with  the  pioneers.  An  old  legend 
says  that  the  Rev.  Seth  Noble,  the  town's  representative,  was  ordered  to 
have  it  named  Snnbury;  but  he  substituted  the  present  title,  under  which, 
and  before  due  protest  could  be  offered,  the  act  of  incorporation  was 
granted.  In  18 14  the  British  fleet  captured  the  village,  and  laid  it  under 
contribution,  to  the  infinite  disgust  of  the  patriotic  citizens,  whose  houses 
were  ruthlessly  pillaged  by  the  enemy. 

Bangor  has  long  been  known  as  the  Queen  City  of  the  East,  and  is 
the  social  capital  of  the  great  Penobscot  Valley,  with  many  tokens  of 
opulence  and  dignity.  Among  the  houses  along  its  well-shaded  streets 
are  the  homes  of  the  lumber  kings,  who  own  an  area  of  Northern  Maine 
greater  than  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island  united.  With  its  increase 
of  wealth  and  social  importance  Bangor  has  enjoyed  also  a  marked 
literary  development,  and  in  its  bibliography  appear  the  names  of  nearly 
two  hundred  authors.      Many  distinguished  political  leaders  and  several 

(12.S) 


Bangor.  1 29 

able  diplomats  have  also  been  residents  here.  Among  the  eminent 
clergymen  who  have  been  stationed  at  Bangor  have  been  John  Cotton 
Smith,  Mark  Trafton,  Newman  Smyth,  Frederick  H.  Hedge,  Charles  C. 
Everett,  Samuel  L.  Caldwell,  Cyrus  Hamlin,  Leonard  Woods,  and  Enoch 
Pond ;  and  with  such  a  group  of  pastors  the  religious  name  of  the  town 
has  been  well  maintained.  The  Bangor  Theological  Seminary  stands 
on  the  heights,  amid  broad  lawns  and  venerable  trees,  and  is  a  Congre- 
gationalist  school,  incorporated  in  1814,  with  about  forty  students  and 
seven  hundred  graduates,  many  of  whom,  like  Webb,  Tenney,  Hamlin, 
Lord,  H.  B.  Smith,  Means,  Peloubet,  Gordon,  and  Chamberlain,  have 
done  noble  pastoral,  missionary,  and  educational  work.  Not  far  distant, 
near  the  handsome  Unitarian  church  and  the  Opera  House,  is  the  spa- 
cious Bangor  House,  a  very  comfortable  and  well-placed  first-class 
hotel,  and  the  point  of  departure  of  the  stages  for  Mount  Desert. 

The  chief  public  buildings  are  the  U.  S.  Post-Office,  a  substantial 
granite  structure ;  the  State  Arsenal,  in  the  environs ;  and  the  massive 
county  buildings,  surrounded  by  lawns  and  trees.  In  Norumbega  Hall 
and  the  Opera  House  the  chief  orators,  lecturers,  singers,  and  actors 
of  the  last  thirty  years  have  appeared.  The  water-supply  of  the  city  is 
excellent,  and  the  great  stationary  engines  at  the  reservoirs,  with  the 
multitude  of  hydrants  in  the  streets,  make  large  fires  almost  impossible. 
The  business  district  is  in  the  lowlands,  about  the  mouth  of  the  Ken- 
duskeag  and  along  the  Penobscot;  and  on  the  commanding  hills  adja- 
cent are  many  pleasant  residence  streets,  overarched  with  large  trees. 

Ship-building,  once  one  of  the  chief  industries  of  the  place,  has  con- 
siderably fallen  off  since  Congress  annihilated  this  great  New-England 
trade ;  but  many  other  manufactures  have  taken  its  place.  The  para- 
mount business  of  this  locality,  however,  is  that  connected  with  the 
lumber  trade.  The  logs  are  brought  down  from  the  booms  near  Sunk- 
haze,  to  the  great  Bangor  boom,  in  drives  of  from  five  million  to  twenty 
million  feet,  and  thence  they  arc  rafted  out  to  the  six  mills  of  the  city, 
where  they  are  cut  into  various  forms  of  lumber  for  the  Boston  and  New 
York  markets.  This  is  the  second  lumber  mart  in  the  world  (during 
the  last  three  years,  four  hundred  and  fifty  million  feet  of  lumber  have 
been  surveyed  here),  and  near  its  long-drawn  miles  of  booms  anchor  the 
largest  ships,  bearing  the  flags  of  all  the  great  maritime  nations.     The 


1 30  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

arterial  tributaries  of  the  Penobscot  penetrate  the  vast  Maine  forest 
for  thousands  of  miles,  and  bring  its  yearly  tribute  of  timber  to  this 
fair  tide-water  city,  for  distribution  throughout  the  world.  Many  billions 
of  feet  of  long  and  short  lumber  have  thus  been  handled  here,  and  now 
enter  into  the  composition  of  far-off  homes.  When  the  annual  ice- 
blockade  is  broken  up  in  the  spring-time,  and  the  fleets  come  up  above 
Wintcrport  and  Bucksport,  and  the  armies  of  stalwart  lumbermen  emerge 
from  the  desolate  northern  woods,  the  streets  of  the  city  arc  full  of  life 
and  motion,  and,  what  with  rollicking  mariners  and  woodsmen  set  free 
from  arduous  winter-work,  and  paid  off  with  large  sums  of  money,  the 
civic  police  have  active  duties  to  perform.  But  it  is  claimed  that  year 
by  year  these  elements  in  the  municipal  history  become  relatively  less 
important,  while  with  her  steady  growth  in  wealth,  culture,  and  local 
pride,  Bangor  takes  honorable  place  among  the  great  cities  of  New 
England. 

Besides  its  advantages  as  a  county  capital,  and  metropolis  for  the 
wide  area  of  Eastern  Maine,  Bangor  derives  great  importance  as  a 
central  point  for  travellers,  being  the  terminus  of  four  railways,  ten 
stage-routes,  and  several  lines  of  steamboats,  for  Boston,  Mount  Desert, 
and  various  landings  on  the  river.  Upwards  of  two  thousand  vessels 
enter  the  port  yearly,  and  their  aggregate  amounts  to  nearly  four  hundred 
thousand  tons.  There  is  a  large  trade  to  West-Indian  and  European 
ports,  which  receive  (besides  lumber)  various  kinds  of  manufactured 
goods  from  Bangor.  When  the  immense  water-power  at  Oldtown  and 
along  the  river  shall  have  been  utilized  —  and  it  is  now  being  fast  taken 
up  —  Bangor  will  be  one  of  the  leading  manufacturing  cities  of  New 
England. 

From  Thomas's  Hill,  on  the  edge  of  the  city,  there  is  a  fine  view  of 
the  Ebeeme  and  Passadumkeag  Mountains,  the  Dixmont  Hills,  and 
other  distant  peaks  around  the  horizon.  Another  favorite  drive  leads 
out  Kenduskeag  Avenue  to  Lover's  Leap,  a  noble  cliff  on  the  Kendus- 
keag  River,  dowered  with  the  usual  tradition  of  a  [)air  of  luckless  Indian 
lovers.  Other  pleasant  carriage  routes  lead  to  Mount  Ilojie  Cemetery, 
near  the  Penobscot,  and  to  the  Holly  Water  Works,  at  Treat's  Falls, 
and  up  the  craggy  and  picturesque  ravine  of  the  Kenduskeag. 


The  Route  to  Moosehead  Lake.  131 


THE  ROUTE  TO  MOOSEHEAD  LAKE. 

The  favorite  way  to  get  from  outer  civilization  into  the  pleasant 
primitiveness  of  the  Moosehead  region  leads  by  the  Bangor  and  Piscata- 
quis Railroad,  which  diverges  from  the  railroad  running  eastward  from 
Bangor  at  Oldtown,  and  crosses  to  the  valley  of  the  Piscataquis,  travers- 
ing the  thrifty  but  decadent  rural  towns  of  Alton,  La  Grange,  and 
Orneville. 

From  Brownville  a  road  diverges  to  the  north-east,  running  to  the 
Lower  Ebeeme  Ponds  (whence  it  is  four  miles  by  river  to  the  Upper 
Ebeeme  Pond),  a  group  of  pretty  and  sequestered  lakelets  in  a  pictu- 
resque mountain  country,  with  very  good  shooting  and  fishing.  i\  path 
less  than  a  mile  long  leads  from  the  lowest  Ebeeme  Pond  to  Schoodic 
Lake,  a  large  and  handsome  sheet  of  water  in  a  lonely  land. 

A  portage  leads  across  from  Schoodic  to  Lake  Seboois,  one  of  the 
loveliest  of  forest  archipelagoes,  which  is  connected  by  a  strait  with 
Endless  Lake.  The  uninhabited  logging-road  from  Brownville,  after 
running  between  Lower  Ebeeme  and  Schoodic,  traverses  several 
leagues  of  grim  desolation,  to  the  Jo  Mary  Lakes  and  the  Twin  Lakes, 
on  the  West  Branch  of  the  Penobscot.  Guides  to  this  region  may 
be  obtained  at  Brownville. 

Katahdin  Iron  Works  are  at  the  end  of  a  railway  diverging  from  the 
Piscataquis  route  at  Milo,  and  running  up  the  valley  of  Pleasant  RiveY 
for  sixteen  miles,  crossing  the  town  of  Brownville,  famous  for  its  quar- 
ries of  fine  slate,  worked  by  industrious  Welshmen.  The  Iron  Works 
were  established  in  1843,  and  the  product  of  the  mine  is  ranked  very 
high  for  its  valuable  properties  of  strength  and  tenacity.  From  seventy- 
five  to  one  hundred  tons  of  iron  are  made  per  week,  and  it  is  regarded 
as  especially  adapted  for  car-wheels  and  other  uses  where  great  endur- 
ance is  required.  Near  the  village  is  the  Silver-Lake  Hotel,  fronting  on  a 
large  pond,  and  recently  augmented  by  a  considerable  addition,  so  that 
it  can  accommodate  almost  a  hundred  guests.     Many  sportsmen  who 


132  Slimmer  Days  Down  East. 

have  been  driven  from  the  Rangeley  country  by  the  advent  of  civihza- 
tion  find  at  Katahdin  Iron  Works  very  good  sport, —  deer,  caribou, 
and  smaller  game  in  the  woods,  trout  and  landlocked  salmon  in  the 
adjacent  streams  and  ponds.  On  the  east  are  the  Ebeeme  Lakes  and 
Mountains;  on  the  west,  the  wild  Houston  ponds;  and  on  the  north, 
fifty  miles  of  rarely  visited  ponds  and  streams,  in  the  unbroken  wilder- 
ness which  stretches  northward  to  Mount  Katahdin  and  Chesuncook 
Lake.  There  is  a  rude  road  to  Chesuncook  and  Ripogenus,  which,  at 
ten  miles  from  the  L'on  Works,  passes  B  Pond,  famous  for  its  trout  and 
caribou.  Six  miles  by  road  from  the  Iron  Works  is  the  great  canon 
called  the  Gulf,  which  is  traversed  by  the  river  for  three  miles.  About 
four  miles  from  the  hotel,  respectively,  are  the  summits  of  two  moun- 
tains. Horseback  and  Chairback,  overlooking  many  square  leagues  of 
unsettled  wilderness.  There  are  several  other  interesting  resorts  in  the 
vicinity  where  sportsmen  find  abundant  amusement. 

Sebec  was  sold  by  Bowdoin  College  to  Richard  Pike,  of  Newbury- 
port,  for  seventy  cents  an  acre,  in  1803,  in  which  year  the  first  family 
settled  here.  It  now  has  about  800  inhabitants,  with  many  good  farms 
and  some  small  manufactures.  From  South  Sebec,  on  the  railroad, 
stages  run  five  miles  north,  to  the  village  of  Sebec,  whence  a  steamboat 
plies  daily  up  the  long  and  narrow  lower  pond,  and  across  the  pretty 
Sebec  Lake,  surrounded  by  high  mountains  and  pretty  bays,  to  the  Lake 
House,  at  the  mouth  of  Wilson  Stream.  Large  and  spirited  landlocked 
salmon  are  caught  here,  and  in  the  multitude  of  ponds  adjacent;  and 
boats,  provisions,  and  guides  may  be  obtained  at  Sebec.  Still  farther 
into  the  wild  lands  is  Sheep  Pond,  very  celebrated  for  its  beautiful 
scenery.  The  landlocked  salmon  in  Buck's  Cove,  an  islaud-studded 
nook  of  Sebec  Lake,  afford  very  good  sport,  and  make  very  delicious 
suppers. 

Dover,  the  capital  of  Piscataquis  County,  is  a  neat  village  south 
of  the  river,  with  a  newspaper  and  a  savings-bank,  and  several  square 
miles  of  good  farming  lands.  Across  the  river  is  the  busy  factory- 
village  of  Foxcroft,  with  a  snug  little  inn  fronting  on  the  public  square, 
near  the  academy  and  the  Congregational  church.  Beyond  Sanger- 
ville  are  the  prosperous  hamlets  of  Guilford  and  Abbott,  west  of  which 
the  track  rises  on  high  grades,  and  gives  broad  views  over  the  valley, 


The  Route  to  Moos  eke  ad  Lake.  133 

now  becoming  mountainous  in  character.  Amid  such  scenes  of  inter- 
est the  train  runs  on  to  Blanchard,  at  whose  railway-restaurant  people 
have  time  to  take  a  noon-day  meal  before  the  stage  starts  for  the 
lake. 

Monson,  five  miles  east  of  Blanchard  and  nine  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea,  will  soon  be  connected  by  a  narrow-gauge  railroad  with  the 
Bangor  and  Piscataquis  line.  There  are  large  quarries  of  fine  roofing- 
slate  about  the  pretty  village  near  the  outlet  of  Lake  Hebron,  employ- 
ing two  hundred  and  fifty  men,  and  shipping  over  six  hundred  car- 
loads yearly.  The  best  of  fishing  is  found  hereabouts,  and  several  of 
the  twenty-five  ponds  of  Monson  have  been  stocked  with  that  rare  and 
delicious  fish,  the  German  carp.  A  new  hotel  has  been  built  on  the 
plateau  over  Lake  Hebron,  for  the  accommodation  of  summer-visitors, 
with  rooms  for  one  hundred  guests.  Nine  miles  distant  is  Ship  Pond, 
covering  nearly  eight  square  miles,  endowed  with  great  natural  beauty, 
and  abounding  in  lake  trout  and  landlocked  salmon.  This  gem  of 
the  forest  has  recently  received  the  name  of  Lake  Onaway,  commemo- 
rating an  Indian  maiden  of  the  Penobscot  tribe,  who,  while  being  carried 
away  by  a  foray  of  Chesuncook  Indians,  escaped  at  night  from  their 
camp  by  this  lake,  and  returned  safely  to  her  people. 

The  stage-ride  from  Blanchard  up  the  hills  to  Shirley,  five  miles, 
and  thence  away  to  Greenville,  six  miles  further,  at  the  foot  of  Moose- 
head  Lake,  has  many  attractive  features,  especially  to  wise  travellers 
who  get  up  on  the  outside.  The  mountains  of  the  adjacent  lumber 
principalities,  the  distant  views  of  blue  Katahdin,  and,  finally,  the 
charming  views  up  the  lake,  with  the  Lily-Bay  and  Ebeeme  Mountains 
on  the  right  and  Squaw  Mountain  on  the  left,  make  a  succession  of 
pleasing  pictures,  framed  by  the  waving  branches  of  the  roadside  trees. 


1 34  Summer  Days  Down  East. 


MOOSEHEAD    LAKE. 

Greenville,  at  the  end  of  the  east  cove  of  Moosehead  Lake,  is  a 
village  of  about  300  inhabitants,  with  a  church  and  two  hotels,  and 
several  large  country-stores,  which  furnish  the  supplies  for  the  logging- 
camps  in  the  wilderness  beyond.  In  the  perpetual  campaign  against 
the  Maine  woods  Greenville  is  an  important  strategic  point,  and  large 
detachments  of  lumbermen  pass  through  every  season.  There  are 
also  several  eligible  ponds  in  the  vicinity,  where  heroes  from  the  cities 
pursue  the  crafty  trout.  The  Wilson  Ponds,  within  three  or  four  miles, 
and  Squaw  and  Fitzgerald  Ponds,  are  frequently  visited  ;  while  people 
with  strong  topographical  interests  ascend  to  the  top  of  Squaw  Moun- 
tain, the  chief  peak  of  the  Moosehead  family,  and  admirers  of 
romantic  scenery  sail  or  canoe  out  on  the  lake,  among  its  diversified 
bays  and  islands. 

The  time  is  not  far  distant  when  armies  of  summer  travellers  shall 
penetrate  the  heart  of  the  Maine  wilderness,  looking  out  upon  the  dim 
haunts  of  the  bear  and  moose  through  the  plate-glass  windows  of 
palace-cars.  The  International  Railway  has  surveyed  a  route  almost 
due  east  from  the  present  terminus  of  its  line  from  Montreal,  at  Lake 
Megantic,  across  the  forest  to  Greenville,  at  the  foot  of  Moosehead 
Lake,  and  thence  through  another  vast  expanse  of  savage  woods  to 
Lincoln,  or  Mattawamkeag,  where  the  European  and  North  American 
Railway  leaves  the  Penobscot  Valley,  toward  New  Brunswick. 

Moosehead  Lake  is  at  once  the  largest  and  most  interesting  of  the 
lakes  of  Maine,  and  it  has  for  many  years  been  a  favorite  goal  for  the 
summer  pilgrimages  of  great  numbers  of  people.  A  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea,  thirty-eight  miles  long,  and  with  four  hundred  miles  of 
sinuous  coast-line,  this  noble  inland  sea  affords  interest  and  amusement 
to  all  temperaments,  and  its  delicious  air,  saturated  with  the  odors  of 
pine  and  spruce,  is  a  tonic  of  rare  properties.  Here  and  there  the 
shores  are  indented  by  deep  coves  and  half-enclosed  bays,  or  overhung 
by  long  lines  of  shaggy  highlands,  or  (more  rarely)  broken  by  clearings 


Moosehead  Lake.  135 

and  white  farm-houses,  denoting  the  advance  of  civilization  toward  the 
heart  of  tlie  forest. 

The  Mount  Kineo  House  is  twenty-one  miles  from  Greenville,  down 
the  lake,  and  the  voyage  has  many  features  of  interest.  At  first  the 
most  conspicuous  object  is  Squaw  Mountain,  rising  on  the  left  to  a  great 
height,  and  conspicuous  from  all  parts  of  the  lake.  On  the  other  side, 
and  scarcely  discernible  for  the  ranks  of  islands  across  its  mouth,  is  Lily 
Bay,  overlooked  by  the  Lily-Bay  Mountains,  and  half  taken  up  by  fairy 
islands.  There  is  a  small  hotel  in  there,  thirteen  miles  by  road  from 
Greenville;  and  seven  miles  further  into  the  woods,  beyond  the  moun- 
tains, and  close  to  Roach  Pond,  is  another  small  hotel,  frequented  by 
trout-fishers.  About  half-way  between  Greenville  and  Mount  Kineo  the 
boat  stops  at  Deer  Island,  near  a  small  summer  boarding-house;  and 
then  traverses  the  narrows  between  Deer  and  Sugar  Islands,  the  latter 
of  which  covers  seven  thousand  acres,  and  is  unoccupied.  Next,  the 
steamer  enters  the  broadest  part  of  the  lake,  with  Kineo  ahead,  the  hotel 
at  the  East  Outlet  four  miles  off  on  the  port  bow,  and  on  the  other  side, 
the  narrow  opening  of  Spencer  Bay,  almost  closed  up  by  an  islet,  and 
opening  a  vista  back  to  the  distant  Spencer  Mountains,  four  thousand 
feet  high,  with  occasional  glimpses  of  Katahdin  far  away  in  the 
east.  Running  over  the  dam  at  the  outlet,  the  Kennebec,  born  in 
this  northern  sea,  flows  away  to  the  south-east,  reaching  The  Forks 
after  several  swift  leagues  of  rapids  and  dead-water,  and  thence  flow- 
ing downward  with  more  dignity,  by  many  an  ancient  town,  to  the 
distant  ocean. 

The  Mount  Kineo  House,  so  dear  to  a  generation  of  tourists,  was 
burned  during  the  year  1882,  and  a  smaller  hotel,  since  built  near  its 
site,  accommodates  the  annual  immigration  until  another  vast  summer- 
palace  shall  rise  on  the  historic  point.  The  hotels  at  Greenville,  at  the 
East  Outlet,  and  on  the  other  bays,  may  profit  by  the  temporary  disaster ; 
but  the  capital  of  the  summer  population  will  always  be  on  this  lovely 
peninsula  under  Mount  Kineo,  and  stretching  almost  across  the  lake. 
The  mountain  is  a  vast  mass  of  hornblende,  fully  two  thousand  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  sea,  almost  perpendicular  on  the  south 
and  east,  and  running  down  to  beaches  of  sand  and  pebbles.  The  sum- 
mit is  easily  ascended,  and  commands  a  very  interesting  view  over  the 


1 36  Sitnmier  Days  Down  East. 

lake-country  and  its  guardian  mountains,  and  out  to  distant  peaks  in 
remote  counties. 

The  Mount  Kineo  House  is  on  the  meridian  h'ne  of  pure  air  and 
good  appetites,  lovely  and  peaceful  scenes,  and  the  occasionally  welcome 
tinconventionalism  of  flannel  shirts  and  short  skirts.  For  many  years 
the  current  of  travel  hitherward  has  increased  continually,  as  the  many 
advantages  of  the  region  became  more  widely  known  and  appreciated, 
and  especially  as  the  railroad  approached  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  lake, 
and  made  the  journey  less  formidable.  Boating  and  fishing  and  hunting, 
and  that  best  of  all  recreations,  loafing,  may  be  enjoyed  here  in  almost 
every  form.  The  Newport  gilded  youth  may  come  up  here  and  wear 
his  pretty  bangles  on  the  piazza  of  the  hotel ;  and  his  sturdier  brethren 
can  relapse  into  temporary  savagery  among  the  adjacent  coves,  where 
neither  road  nor  village,  church  bell  nor  locomotive  whistle,  intrudes  on 
their  embowered  camps. 

James  Russell  Lowell  came  up  here  once,  and  admired  "the  deep 
blue  mountains,  of  remarkably  graceful  outline,"  but  laughed  good- 
naturedly  at  Greenville  as  "  a  village  which  looked  as  if  it  had  dripped 
down  from  the  hills,  and  settled  in  the  hollow  at  the  foot  of  the  lake." 
He  likened  Mount  Kineo  to  Capri;  but  Tahmunt,  the  Indian  hunter, 
told  Thoreau,  who  encamped  here  many  years  ago,  that  the  first  white 
men  who  came  into  this  region  fancied  a  resemblance  between  Kineo 
and  a  moose's  head,  and  named  the  lake  therefor.  The  ancient  New- 
England  tribes  were  mainly  supplied  with  arrow-heads  and  tomahawks 
from  the  sharp-edged  fragments  of  the  Kineo  cliff's ;  and  they  called 
the  lake  Sebaniook,  meaning  (like  Sebec  and  Sebago)  "the  Great 
Pond;  "  and  Chenebesic,  or  "the  Great  Water  Place."  The  wild  Indian 
legend  of  Kineo  is  told  in  the  local  guide-books.  (Hubbard's  is  the 
best  of  these.) 

There  arc  many  interesting  points  to  which  to  make  excursions 
vvithin  a  short  sailing  distance.  Among  these  are  the  Moody  Islands, 
famous  as  fishing-grounds;  the  Gull  Rocks;  the  shadowy  Cowen's 
Cove,  and  many  another  coign  of  vantage,  made  accessible  by  pleasant 
water-routes,  and  each  justifying  a  holiday  journey.  In  rambling 
about  the  peninsula  one  may  find  ledges  of  gold-bearing  quartz, 
caverns  in   the    rocky  cliffs,   lonely   and   sequestered   beaches,   croquet- 


Chesuncook  and  Katahdin.  137 

squares  and  base-ball  diamonds,  and  the  productive  fields  whence  the 
vegetable  side-dishes  of  the  hotel  are  drawn.  There  is  a  goodly- 
company  of  stalwart  and  trusty  guides  connected  with  the  hotel,  and 
their  boats  and  canoes  are  always  ready  to  carry  travellers  to  remoter 
solitudes,  to  the  beautiful  Brassua  Lake  and  its  pathetic  Miseree  stream, 
to  the  alluring  waters  of  Tomhegan  and  Socatean,  to  Duck  Cove  and 
the  West  Outlet,  and  a  score  of  other  frequented  localities. 


CHESUNCOOK    AND    KATAHDIN. 

The  upper  part  of  Moosehead  Lake  is  called  the  North  Bay,  and 
is  traversed  semi-weekly  by  a  steamboat,  which  runs  up  for  twenty 
miles  or  so  to  the  North-east  Carry,  where  there  is  a  great  pier  and  a 
small  hotel.  A  portage-road  leads  thence  to  the  West  Branch  of  the 
Penobscot,  over  which  Lowell  carried  his  baggage  while  exploring  the 
lakes.  "  My  estimate  of  the  distance  is  eighteen  thousand  six  hundred 
and  seventy-four  and  three-fourths  miles,"  said  he;  but  the  surveys 
make  it  only  two  miles.  The  river  runs  thence  down  to  Chesuncook 
Lake,  eighteen  miles,  by  many  a  rapid,  but  still  navigable  for  canoes. 
From  the  North-west  Carry  it  is  two  or  three  miles  across  to  the 
West  Branch  of  the  Penobscot,  which  may  be  ascended  by  canoes,  for 
sixteen  miles  (in  ten  or  twelve  hours),  to  the  Forks,  where  the  North 
and  South  Branches  flow  together.  Twenty-seven  miles  distant  up 
the  North  Branch,  by  a  route  where  navigation  is  difficult,  is  the 
Abacotnetic  Bog,  where  deer  and  caribou  enjoy  almost  unchallenged 
possession ;  and  a  portage  leads  thence  to  Baker  Lake,  one  of  the  upper 
reservoirs  to  the  great  St.  John  River,  two  long  days'  journey  above  the 
Seven  Islands.  In  another  direction,  up  the  South  Branch,  is  Penobscot 
Lake,  the  cradle  of  the  river  which  bears  its  name,  mirroring  the  high 
mountains  of  the  Canadian  frontier.  Old  tote-roads  ascend  these  two 
valleys  and  cross  the  border  into  French  America. 


1 38  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

Chesuncook  Lake  is  a  bulge  in  the  Penobscot,  eighteen  miles  long, 
and  in  places  three  miles  wide,  with  a  little  farming  hamlet  at  the  head, 
a  church,  and  a  hotel,  and  a  fine  view  of  Katahdin  and  the  Sourdnahunk 
Mountains.  Rugged  and  lonely  roads  run  hence  to  Moosehead  Lake; 
to  the  long-drawn  Chamberlain  Lake,  the  reservoir  of  the  Allagash 
River;  and  to  the  beautiful  scenery  which  surrounds  Caucomgomoc 
Lake.  Between  Chesuncook  and  the  French  Canadian  villages  on  the 
St.  Lawrence  there  are  no  hamlets  nor  villages,  nothing  but  woods  and 
lakes,  rivers,  rapids,  and  mountains,  abounding  in  game  and  fish,  and  as 
yet  unattacked  by  permanent  civilization.  It  is  about  ninety  miiles 
down  the  West  Branch  to  Mattawamkeag,  on  the  railway,  the  stream 
flowing  down  through  Ripogenus,  Pamedomcook,  and  the  Twin  Lakes, 
and  past  the  mouths  of  many  a  famous  fishing  stream. 

Many  travellers  descend  this  romantic  stream,  favored  by  frequent 
glimpses  of  great  Katahdin  and  its  minor  brethren,  and  blest  with  many 
an  encampment  in  the  quiet  forest,  with  provisions  supplied  by  the 
adjacent  waters.  A  two-mile  stream  conducts  from  Chesuncook  to 
Caribou  Lake,  seven  miles  long.  The  outlet  of  Chesuncook  soon  opens 
into  Ripogenus  Lake,  commanding  remarkably  fine  views  of  Katahdin 
and  the  Sourdnahunk  range,  and  surrounded  by  lovely  scenery,  includ- 
ing the  great  rocky  gorge  through  which  the  river  flows  away  to  the 
south,  over  rapids  and  falls,  with  occasional  patches  of  navigable  dead 
water.  There  are  many  portages  to  be  made  around  Pockwockamon, 
Katepskonegan,  Passamagamook,  and  other  polysyllabic  falls ;  but  the 
scenery  is  beautiful  and  full  of  variety,  and  choice  fishing  is  found  on 
all  sides.  From  Pamedomcook  Lake  the  rare  beauties  of  Millnoket, 
Nahmakanta,  and  Rainbow  Lakes  are  visited.  Pamedomcook  is 
characterized  by  Theodore  Winthrop  as  "  the  largest  bulge  of  the 
Penobscot,  and  irregular  as  the  verb  'To  be.'"  It  commands  fine 
distant  views  of  Katahdin,  the  presiding  genius  of  all  these  wilderness 
leagues. 

Mount  Katahdin,  the  chief  mountain  of  Maine,  rises  to  a  height 
of  five  thousand  three  hundred  and  eighty-five  feet,  from  the  quiet 
wilderness  between  the  Last  and  West  Branches,  so  far  away  from  the 
human  world  that  it  is  rarely  visited,  save  by  the  most  adventurous  of 
tourists,  or  the  most  enterprising  of  scientific  persons.     The   western 


Chesuncook  and  Katahdin.  139 

route  to  the  top  leads  in  a  day  from  the  West  Branch,  near  Ayboljocka- 
mejus  and  Sandy  Stream,  up  to 

"  Where,  through  clouds,  are  glimpses  given 
Of  Katahdin's  sides,  — 
Rock  and  forest  piled  to  heaven, 
Torn  and  ploughed  by  slides." 

The  most  direct  route  to  the  top  of  Mount  Katahdin  leads  in  from 
Mattawamkeag  to  Sherman  Village,  and  Katahdin  Lake,  a  distance  of 
fifty  miles,  whence  it  is  about  ten  miles  by  a  very  arduous  route  to  the 
crest.  The  twin  peaks  rise  from  a  broad  mossy  plateau,  strewn  with 
rocks,  and  haunted  by  clouds,  and  are  joined  by  a  long  and  dangerous 
ridge,  very  narrow,  on  one  side  a  tremendous  escarped  cliff  falling  away 
hundreds  of  feet  into  deep,  woody  glens,  where  it  is  mirrored  in 
dark  ponds.  The  view  is  magnificent  and  sombre,  without  signs  of 
human  occupation,  village,  spire,  or  clearing,  but  lighted  up  by  the 
flashing  surfaces  of  five  hundred  ponds  and  lakes,  which,  as  a  poetic 
visitor  remarked,  resemble  a  mirror  broken  into  a  thousand  fragments, 
scattered  over  the  greenwood  counties,  and  reflecting  the  sun  on  every 
side. 


THE    EASTERN   FRONTIER. 

THE    ROUTE    TO    AROOSTOOK    AND     THE 
MARITIME    PROVINCES. 


HE  great  land  route  from  Boston  and  Portland  to  the  Eastern 
Provinces  of  Canada  runs  north  and  east  from  Bangor  to  the 
frontier,  where  it  connects  with  the  railway  system  of  New 
Brunswick,  by  which  access  is  gained  to  all  important  points 
in  that  Province  and  Nova  Scotia,  and  the  lovely  scenery  of  Cape 
Breton,  After  leaving  Bangor  the  route  follows  the  Penobscot 
River  for  many  miles,  with  great  saw-mills,  lumber-booms,  and  other  ap- 
purtenances of  Maine's  chief  industry,  strung  out  along  and  across  the 
stream.  Beyond  the  pretty  village  of  Veazie  it  passes  Orono,  the  seat 
of  the  State  College  of  Agriculture  and  the  Mechanic  Arts;  and  beyond 
West  Great  Works  it  reaches  Oldtown,  where  the  Bangor  &  Piscataquis 
Railroad  diverges  towards  Moosehcad  Lake.  On  an  island  in  the  river 
is  the  chief  Indian  village  of  New  England,  where  more  than  two  hun- 
dred Tarratine  (or  Penobscot)  Indians  dwell,  with  neat  little  houses,  a 
Roman-Catholic  church,  and  schools  taught  by  devoted  Sisters  of  Mercy. 
The  women  make  great  quantities  of  curious  baskets  and  beadwork,  to 
sell  to  tourists ;  and  the  men  are  expert  and  daring  lumbermen,  boat- 
men, and  guides.  The  State  has  reserved  for  them  the  seven-score 
islands  in  the  river  above  this  point,  covering  four  thousand  five  hundred 
acres,  and,  under  treaty  stipulations,  gives  them  a  handsome   annual 

grant  of  money. 

(140) 


The  Route  to  Aroostook.  141 

The  train  crosses  the  Penobscot  above  Oldtown,  and  runs  up  its 
east  bank  to  Milford,  a  quiet  elm-shaded  village,  which  lost  fifty  men 
in  the  civil  war.  Further  on  is  Greenbush,  where  snow-shoes  and 
moccasins  are  made;  Paasadumkeag,  a  lumber-manufacturing  village, 
with  an  adjacent  island  bearing  the  ruins  of  a  French  fort;  Enfield,  near 
the  broad  waters  of  Coldstream  Pond,  abounding  in  fish ;  and  Lincoln, 
whence  stages  depart  for  the  forest  towns.  A  i^"^  miles  beyond  the 
train  reaches  Mattawamkeag,  a  busy  village  at  the  confluence  of  the 
Mattawamkeag  and  Penobscot  Rivers,  on  the  site  of  a  very  ancient 
Indian  town.  Stages  run  thence  northward  twenty-five  miles  along  the 
old  military  road,  to  Sherman,  a  pretty  village  on  the  Molunkus ;  and 
ten  miles  beyond  to  Patten.  The  usual  route  to  Mount  Katahdin  leads 
westward  from  Sherman,  most  of  the  way  over  rugged  portage  roads,  by 
Stacyville  and  across  the  East  Branch  to  Katahdin  Lake  (twenty-seven 
miles),  where  the  night-camp  is  usually  made.  A  path  leads  from  the 
lake  to  the  summit  in  six  or  eight  very  tiresome  and  picturesque  miles. 

A  fev/  miles  beyond  Mattawamkeag,  at  Bancroft,  the  railway  leaves 
the  Mattawamkeag  Valley,  and  turns  to  the  south-east,  running  down  by 
Danforth,  whence  stages  go  north  to  Houlton,  passing  through  the  towns 
along  the  upper  Chiputneticook  waters;  by  Jackson  Brook;  through 
Forest,  whose  stage-route  runs  southerly  into  the  Schoodic  region;  by 
Lambert  Lake,  and  out  through  the  woods  to  Vanceboro',  the  last 
American  station.  It  is  a  little  Methodist  hamlet  of  300  inhabitants, 
with  one  or  two  inns  and  two  stores.  From  Vanceboro'  sportsmen 
enter  the  grand  solitudes  of  the  Chiputneticook  Lakes,  extending 
from  the  village,  for  nearly  fifty  miles,  to  the  north-west,  and  in 
some  places  attaining  a  width  of  ten  miles,  with  infinite  variety  of 
scenery,  hundreds  of  islands  and  islets  clad  with  cedars,  hemlocks,  and 
birches,  narrow  straits  leading  through  far-surrounding  archipelagoes, 
still  and  sequestered  coves  and  bays,  and  broad  reaches  of  open  water. 
Great  numbers  of  boulders  and  ledges,  composed  of  fine  white  granite, 
are  found  here,  lining  the  shores  like  titanic  masonry,  or  gleaming 
/  through  the  transparent  waters.  The  tall  highlands  which  approach  the 
lakes  are  mantled  with  heavy  forests  to  their  summits,  and  shelter  un- 
disturbed colonies  of  moose  and  caribou,  deer  and  bears,  foxes  and 
wolves,  and  all  the  other  animals  of  primeval  New  England.     In  the 


1 42  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

lakes  great  numbers  of  landlocked  salmon  and  pickerel  may  be  caught, 
and  trout  densely  populate  the  inflowing  brooks.  The  chief  industry  in 
this  region  is  the  collecting  of  bark,  for  the  immense  sole-leather  tan- 
neries at  Forest  City,  where  myriads  of  buffalo-hides  from  the  far  West 
are  made  into  serviceable  leather.  A  quaint  and  wheezy  little  steam- 
boat plies  up  and  down  the  lakes,  carrying  the  tan-bark  from  various 
places  of  deposit  along  the  shores,  down  to  the  so-called  "  city." 

A  branch  line  from  the  New-Brunswick  Railway  meets  the  Maine 
Central  track  at  Vanceboro',  where  passengers  bound  north  or  south, 
for  the  Aroostook  or  Passamaquoddy  regions,  change  cars. 

The  railroad  crosses  the  St.  Croix  River  at  Vanceboro',  and  seven 
miles  beyond  reaches  McAdam  Junction,  where  it  is  crossed  by  the 
main  line  of  the  New-Brunswick  Railway,  running  south  to  Passama- 
quoddy Bay,  and  north  to  the  upper  Aroostook  and  Madawaska  region. 
The  main  route  continues  down  through  New  Brunswick  for  eighty- 
five  miles,  by  the  well-known  fishing-grounds  of  Magaguadavic  and 
Oromocto,  to  the  provincial  metropolis  of  St.  John,  whence  access  is 
easy  to  all  parts  of  Nova  Scotia  and  the  remoter  east.  The  line  from 
Bangor  to  St.  John  was  opened  in  1872,  amid  international  rejoicings, 
since  which,  amid  many  vicissitudes,  it  has  slowly  advanced  in  value 
and  productiveness,  and  has  received  improved  equipments  and  advan- 
tages. There  is  now  a  continuous  all-rail  line,  of  about  four  hundred 
and  fifty  miles,  from  Boston  to  St.  John,  without  ferry  or  transfer,  and 
working  harmoniously  with  combined  interests.  When  the  new  bridge 
at  St.  John  is  finished  there  will  be  an  unbroken  route  clear  through  to 
Halifax ;  and  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  is  rapidly  closing  the  gap 
in  its  Montreal-Halifax  route,  crossing  Maine  from  Sherbrooke  and 
Lake  Megantic,  by  Moosehead  Lake,  to  Lincoln  on  the  Maine  Central, 
and  thence  following  the  consolidated  line  around  to  the  sea. 

St.  John,  the  handsome  little  Tory  city,  which,  in  October,  1883, 
celebrates  the  hundredth  anniversary  of  its  foundation  by  self-exiled 
American  Loyalists,  has  long  been  a  favorite  objective  point  for  sum- 
mer-travellers, who  find  much  to  interest  them  in  its  bright  and  busy 
streets  and  beautiful  environs.  From  thence  daily  steamers  ascend  the 
St.  John  River  —  which  the  provincials  liken  to  the  Rhine  or  the  Hudson 
—  to  Fredericton,  a  charming  little  cathedral-town,  and  the  capital  of 


Aroostook  and  Madawaska.  143 

New  Brunswick.  Others  cross  the  Bay  of  Fundy  to  Digby  and  Annapo- 
Hs  Royal,  and  visit  the  land  of  Evangeline,  around  the  Basin  of  Minas, 
whence  a  short  railway  line  leads  down  to  Halifax,  or  around  to  the 
Gut  of  Canso,  connecting  there  with  steamboats  which  traverse  the 
beautiful  Bras  d'Or  Lakes,  in  Cape  Breton.  The  Intercolonial  Railway 
runs  eastward  from  St.  John  to  Moncton,  whence  its  main  line  crosses 
hundreds  of  miles  of  picturesque  and  thinly  settled  country,  by  the 
Bay  of  Chaleur  and  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence  towns,  to  Quebec;  while 
branch  lines  lead  to  Shediac  and  the  Prince-Edward-Island  steamers,  to 
Pictou,  and  to  Parrsboro',  on  the  Basin  of  Minas.  At  the  end  of  this 
route  is  smoky  old  Halifax,  the  last  and  strongest  fortress  of  the  British 
Empire  in  North  America,  with  its  huge  hill-citadel,  its  bevy  of  Her 
Majesty's  iron-clads,  its  regiments  of  red-coats,  and  all  the  singular 
sights  and  sounds  of  a  royal  garrison-town.  Here  one  may  take 
steamer  for  Prince  Edward  Island,  the  Magdalen  Islands,  St.  Pierre, 
Newfoundland,  or  Liverpool;  or  for  the  sequestered  ports  and  magnifi- 
cent scenery  on  the  contiguous  coasts  of  Nova  Scotia  and  Cape  Breton. 


AROOSTOOK    AND    MADAWASKA. 

The  New-Brunswick  Railway,  running  north  from  Vanceboro'  and 
McAdam  Junction,  traverses  a  marvellously  dreary  region  for  nearly 
fifty  miles,  to  Debec  Junction,  whence  a  branch  eight  miles  long  leads 
across  the  American  border  to  Houlton,  the  capital  of  the  famous 
Aroostook  country.  This  is  a  brisk  little  town,  of  3,000  inhabitants, 
with  half-a-dozen  churches,  two  newspapers,  a  famous  academy,  and 
several  prosperous  little  factories.  It  was  founded  in  1807,  and  had  a 
garrison  of  United-States  troops  from  1830  until  the  outbreak  of  the 
Mexican  War.  The  dilapidated  old  barracks  and  their  parade-ground 
are  still  preserved,  near  the  railway  station. 

Houlton  is  a  great  centre  for  stage-routes,  which  run  thence  to 
all  the  border  towns, — Orient  and  Topsfield,  Lineus  and  Molunkus, 
Smyrna  and  Patten,  Presque  Isle  and  Fort  Fairfield. 


144  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

Eastward  from  Debec  the  railway  enters  the  rich  and  beautiful 
valley  of  the  St.  John,  at  Woodstock,  and  ascends  for  many  leagues 
through  a  very  interesting  country,  by  Muniac,  Tobique,  and  the 
noble  scenery  of  Grand  Falls,  close  along  the  border,  to  Edmundston, 
at  present  the  terminus.  This  is  a  quaint  little  hamlet  of  Acadian 
farmers,  with  two  hotels  and  two  churches.  Twenty-five  miles  to  the 
northward,  on  the  Royal  Mail  route  to  Riviere  du  Loup,  on  the  St. 
Lawrence  River,  is  Temiscouata  Lake,  thirty  miles  long,  where  white- 
fish  may  be  caught,  and  large  gray  trout,  or  tuladi,  and  burbot,  or  eel- 
pouts.  Across  the  river  from  Edmundston  is  the  large  French- Ameri- 
can village  of  Madawaska,  whence  stages  run  ten  miles  up  the  valley  to 
Dionne,  or  Frenchville,  whence  it  is  five  miles  to  Lake  Cleveland,  the 
uppermost  of  the  Eagle  Lakes.  For  seventy-five  miles  or  more,  from 
St.  Francis  to  Grand  Falls,  the  St,  John  flows  through  a  rich  rural 
country,  prolific  in  oats,  buckwheat,  and  potatoes,  studded  with  little 
hamlets  grouped  around  tall  Roman  Catholic  churches,  and  bordered 
by  hundreds  of  long  and  narrow  farms.  It  is  all  one  people,  partly  in 
Canada  and  partly  within  the  American  lines,  but  oblivious  of  modern 
boundaries  in  their  ancient  unity  of  race.  They  are  the  descendants 
of  the  Acadian  peasantry  who  were  driven  from  about  the  Bay  of 
Fundy  in  1755,  and  fled  far  into  the  trackless  northern  solitudes,  where 
they  found  rest  and  peace.  There  are  now  not  far  from  ten  thousand 
of  these  happy  and  industrious  Latin  farmers,  a  frugal  and  contented 
race,  perpetuating  the  customs  and  traditions  of  the  era  of  Louis 
Quatorze,  and  having  in  their  parishes  many  a  good  Father  Felicien, 
many  a  stalwart  Basil,  many  a  fair  Evangeline. 

Stages  run  up  the  St.  John  for  fifteen  miles  to  the  far-away  French- 
American  hamlet  of  St.  Francis;  and  an  equal  distance  to  the  south- 
ward are  the  infant  settlements  on  Eagle  Lake,  the  lowest  of  the  great 
chain  of  Eagle  Lakes,  extending  thence  in  a  long  line  toward  the 
north-east. 

It  is  about  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles  from  Greenville,  at  the 
head  of  Moosehead  Lake,  to  Edmundston,  through  the  lakes  and  rivers 
of  Northern  Maine.  The  distance  across  Moosehead,  and  out  to  Moose- 
horn,  IS  about  forty-eight  miles ;  and  it  is  twenty  miles  thence,  down  the 
West  Branch  of  the  Penobscot,  across  the  head  of  Chesuncook  Lake, 


Aroostook  and  Madawaska.  145 

and  up  the  Umbazooksus  Stream,  to  Umbazooksus  Lake.  A  very- 
arduous  carry  of  two  miles  goes  from  thence  into  Mud  Pond,  whose 
outlet  is  followed  down  to  Chamberlain  Lake.  A  road  leads  across 
from  Chesuncook  to  Chamberlain.  There  is  a  farm  here  where  sup- 
plies may  be  obtained  ;  and  a  dam  at  the  natural  foot  of  the  lake  compels 
its  waters,  and  the  inflowing  upper  Allagash,  and  all  the  logs  that  therein 
float,  to  seek  an  unnatural  channel,  flowing  southward  into  the  East 
Branch  of  the  Penobscot,  instead  of  (as  for  centuries)  northward  into 
the  St.  John  River,  and  out  through  Canadian  waters.  After  traversing 
the  gloomy  miles  of  Chamberlain  Lake  the  boatman  goes  around  the 
dam  and  descends  to  the  broad  and  picturesque  waters  of  Eagle  Lake, 
which  are  followed  for  a  dozen  miles  or  more.  A  line  of  narrows  con- 
nects Eagle  with  Churchill  Lake,  six  miles  long,  with  several  pretty 
islands.  After  a  carry  of  about  a  mile,  around  the  Devil's  Elbow,  the 
voyager  descends  the  pretty  Allagash  River  for  eight  miles  to  Um- 
saskis  Lake,  which  opens  into  Long  Lake,  the  two  giving  a  free  water- 
way of  sixteen  miles.  Thirty  miles  more  of  navigable  Allagash,  includ- 
ing also  its  bulge  of  Square  Lake,  and  the  boat  comes  to  the  Allagash 
Falls,  which  must  be  carried  around.  Twelve  more  miles  of  smooth 
water  and  the  Allagash  enters  the  St.  John,  fifty-two  miles  above 
Madawaska. 

The  famous  and  interesting  Aroostook  country  is  reached  by  a 
branch  line,  thirty-four  miles  long,  which  leaves  the  New-Brunswick 
Railway  at  Aroostook  station,  and  ascends  the  Aroostook  valley  through 
pleasant  and  picturesque  scenery.  This  valuable  country,  rich  in  agri- 
cultural capabilities,  will  soon  be  reached  by  an  extension  of  the  Maine 
Central  line  leading  through  American  territory.  The  present  route 
bends  around  the  multiplied  curves  and  graceful  windings  of  the  Aroos- 
took River,  with  a  pretty  view  of  the  Aroostook  Falls ;  and  at  four 
miles  from  the  junction  it  crosses  the  international  frontier.  Fort  Fair- 
field is  a  bright  and  enterprising  town,  with  good  hotels  and  hospitable 
society,  and  a  large  country  trade,  supplying  many  townships  along  the 
border.  In  one  respect,  at  least,  this  is  preeminent  among  American 
towns,  for  more  potatoes  are  shipped  thence  than  from  any  other  place 
in  the  United  States.  On  the  hill  over  the  railway  station  are  the  ruins 
of  the  escarpment  and  barracks  which  pertained  to  old  Fort  Fairfield,  a 


1 46  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

stronghold  dating  from  the  days  of  the  bloodless  Aroostook  War,  and 
commanding  the  wide  and  peaceful  valley  for  many  miles. 

A  few  miles  beyond  the  train  reaches  Caribou,  a  brisk  town  of 
pioneers,  emulating  the  prospective  cities  of  Dakota  in  its  earnestness 
and  ambition,  and  like  them  provided  with  a  spacious  modern  hotel, 
conspicuously  placed  in  full  view  of  the  travelling  world.  Not  far  from 
Caribou,  towards  the  Eagle  Lakes,  is  New  Sweden,  the  chief  settlement 
of  the  Scandinavian  immigrants  who  have  entered  Maine  in  such  num- 
bers during  the  last  few  years.  Continual  accessions  are  made  to  this 
colony  of  Norsemen,  and  several  detachments  direct  from  the  old 
country  passed  through  Caribou  in  1882.  The  new-comers  make 
good  citizens,  and  the  Swedish  hamlets  of  Northern  Aroostook,  extend- 
ing up  to  the  extensive  district  inhabited  by  the  Acadian  French,  will 
soon  be  known  as  a  very  interesting  feature  in  New-England  travel. 
These  fair-haired  northern  farmers  are  at  once  temperate,  practical,  and 
industrious ;  and  so,  by  their  persistent  and  steady  labor,  even  though 
conducted  in  the  ancient  and  obsolete  Swedish  fashion,  they  are 
patiently  subjugating  the  forest,  and  preparing  a  rural  region  which  will 
blossom  as  the  rose. 

The  railway  has  recently  been  extended  up  the  Aroostook  Valley, 
to  the  southward,  for  fifteen  miles,  and  terminates  at  the  thriving 
Yankee  town  of  Presque  Isle,  —  second  only  to  Houlton  among  the  free 
cities  of  Aroostook,  and  hopeful  of  attaining  the  dignity  of  capital  of  a 
new  northern  county.  There  are  upwai'ds  of  2,000  inhabitants  here, 
with  four  churches,  an  academy,  and  a  newspaper  entitled  The  Presque 
Isle  Sunrise.  The  old  United-States  military  road  runs  thence  north- 
ward to  the  Madawaska  region,  and  southward  to  Houlton  (forty-two 
miles  distant)  and  the  valley  of  the  Penobscot.  Presque  Isle  is  a  rich 
town,  for  a  rural  one,  and  is  famous  for  the  great  value  of  its  farms. 

This  great  Aroostook  country  is  the  only  part  of  rural  New  Eng- 
land into  which  immigration  is  now  pouring,  and  the  remarkable  crops 
of  grain  and  potatoes  raised  on  its  rich  alluvial  limestone  soil  promise 
the  support  of  a  dense  and  prosperous  population,  fifty  years  hence, 
when  many  populous  villages  and  towns  shall  rise  on  these  arable  plains. 
It  seems  destined  to  be  the  great  cattle  and  sheep-raising  district  of 
New   England,   and    in   this   respect   alone   its   continued  prosperity  is 


Passamaquoddy  Bay.  147 

assured.  Millions  of  shingles  are  sent  down  the  country  every  season, 
and  the  railway  cars  groan  under  their  burdens  of  "  shingle-rift."  But 
the  chief  product  of  the  Aroostook  country  is  potatoes,  which  at  cer- 
tain seasons  form  the  exclusive  subject  of  conversation  in  hotels,  cars, 
and  stores.  Large  Boston  houses  send  buyers  throughout  this  region 
when  the  crops  come  in,  who  accumulate  the  products  of  the  farms  in 
their  store-houses  near  the  railway  stations.  Millions  upon  millions  of 
bushels  are  sent  away  yearly,  and  the  returning  money  of  the  merchants 
makes  it  possible  to  add  many  luxuries  to  the  Spartan  pioneer  house- 
holds. Nearly  all  the  small  potatoes  are  ground  into  starch,  of  which 
from  four  to  five  thousand  tons  are  shipped  hence  every  year.  The 
product  per  acre  sometimes  reaches  five  hundred  bushels  of  potatoes. 
Many  an  enterprising  young  farmer  has  entered  the  Aroostook  woods, 
built  him  a  rude  log-house,  cut  down  the  dense  forest  around,  planted 
the  virgin  soil,  and,  in  a  few  years,  with  courage  and  hard  work, 
won  for  himself  a  handsome  and  productivee  state,  unencumbered  and 
independent. 


PASSAMAQUODDY  BAY. 

Passamaquoddy  Bay,  separating  the  south-eastern  corner  of  Maine 
and  the  United  States  from  the  Province  of  New  Brunswick,  is  a 
lovely  archipelago,  opening  from  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  traversed  by 
immense  fleets  of  fishing  and  coasting  vessels,  as  well  as  by  the  Inter- 
national steamships,  and  smaller  steamers  connecting  Eastport  with 
Grand  Manan,  Campobello,  St.  Andrews,  and  Calais.  This  region  is 
reached  from  Boston  by  railway,  through  Portland  and  Bangor,  to  Mc- 
Adam  Junction,  whence  the  New-Brunswick  Railway  runs  down  through 
the  provincial  county  of  Charlotte,  to  St.  Stephen  and  St.  Andrews 
(forty-three  miles).  The  romantic  Passamaquoddy  region  was  ex- 
plored by  the  ship  Mary  of  Gtiilford  in  1527;  and  in  1603  DeMonts 
established  a  settlement  on  St.  Croix  Island,  with  batteries,  barracks  for 


14^  Summer  Days  Down  East. 

the  Swiss  soldiery,  and  a  chapel ;  but  the  first  winter  finished  this 
untimely  enterprise,  and  one-half  of  the  colonists  were  buried  on  the 
island.  Several  other  French  settlements  near  these  waters  failed 
miserably;  and  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century  the  New-Eng- 
landers  moved  in,  to  stay.  At  the  head  of  navigation  on  the  St. 
Croix  River,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  stream,  stand  the  brisk  towns  of 
Calais  and  St.  Stephen,  —  one  American  and  the  other  Canadian,  and 
always  very  happy  neighbors,  even  when  war  exists  between  their 
respective  nations.  Calais  is  a  city  of  above  6,000  inhabitants,  with 
good  hotels,  two  newspapers,  several  churches,  and  a  large  and  lucra- 
tive lumber  business.  This  pretty  little  city  was  the  birthplace  of 
Harriett  Prescott  Spofford,  the  novelist.  St.  Stephen  is  another 
lumber-town,  with  5,000  inhabitants,  and  a  good  quota  of  provincial 
institutions. 

A  railway  runs  north-west,  twenty  miles  from  Calais,  into  the 
unnamed  wilderness-townships  up  the  St.  Croix  valley,  by  the 
prosperous  international  lumber  village  of  Milltown,  and  in  to  the 
village  of  Princeton,  at  the  foot  of  Big  Lake.  From  this  point  the 
famous  Schoodic  Lakes  stretch  north-westward  for  thirty  miles,  joined 
by  navigable  straits.  A  small  steamboat  runs  up  the  lower  lake 
to  Grand-Lake  Stream,  the  outlet  of  Grand  Lake,  and  the  home 
of  countless  salmon-trout.  Grand  Lake  is  a  very  beautiful  sheet 
of  water,  girded  by  dark  forests  of  pine  and  hard-wood,  dotted  with 
wooded  islets,  and  floored  with  vast  granite  boulders.  Here  are  found 
perch,  pickerel,  trout,  lake-trout,  and  the  rare  and  delicious  landlocked 
salmon,  with  bears  and  deer  in  the  adjacent  woods.  On  the  lower  lake 
there  is  a  large  village  of  Passamaquoddy  Lidians,  whose  young  men 
make  capital  guides  for  parties  entering  this  remote  wilderness.  Some 
account  of  this  labyrinth  of  lakes  may  be  found  in  Scott's  "  Fishing  in 
American  Waters  "  ;  but  they  are  as  yet  scarcely  known  to  our  fishermen, 
who  find  at  Rangeley  finer  mountain  scenery  and  better  accommo- 
dations, but  not  better  sport.  Far  westward  to  the  Penobscot  water- 
shed extend  these  silent  lakes,  guarded  by  the  virgin  forests,  and 
inhabited  by  myriads  of  aldermanic  and  unsophisticated  fish,  who  are' 
left  here  to  die  of  old  age. 

St.  Andrews,  at  the  lower  end  of  the  forked  railroad  running  south 


Passamaqiwddy  Bay.  149 

from  McAdam  Junction,  stands  on  a  pleasant  peninsula  projecting  far 
into  Passamaquoddy  Bay,  at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Croix,  and  is  a 
quaint  and  quiet  old  provincial  village,  bordered  on  one  side  by  rich 
■farm-lands  and  on  the  other  by  decaying  wharves.  The  great  fleets 
which  once  loaded  here  for  the  British  and  West-Indian  trade  have 
departed  forever,  and  the  dilapidated  little  town  is  left  with  only  its 
petty  dignities  as  a  county  capital,  and  quiet  and  conservative  claims 
as  a  summer  resort.  Some  3'-ears  ago  a  handsome  summer-hotel,  the 
Argyll  House,  v^^as  built  near  the  bay,  over  which  it  gives  a  very  noble 
view.  Visitors  to  St.  Andrews  need  not  lack  for  amusement,  for  they 
can  sail  up  and  down  through  the  beautiful  archipelago  near  by;  or 
visit  the  glacier-cut  crest  of  Chamcook  Mountain,  overlooking  both 
bay  and  river ;  or  sail  across  to  the  great  Indian  village  at  Pleasant 
Point;  or  voyage  up  the  lovely  St.  Croix  to  Calais  and  St.  Stephen, 
and  down  the  bay  to  Eastport. 

Eastport  stands  on  Moose  Island,  in  Passamaquoddy  Bay,  and 
has  about  3, coo  inhabitants,  most  of  whom  are  connected  with  the 
fisheries  and  the  sardine  factories.  It  is  prettily  placed  on  the  slope  of 
a  high  hill,  from  which  an  abandoned  fort  looks  down  on  the  harbor,  and 
silently  protects  the  sardine  factories  of  the  little  town  ("sardines,"  in 
this  case,  is  an  euphemism  for  small  herrings,  packed  in  sardine  boxes). 
The  ancient  history  of  this  Passamaquoddy  region  has  many  episodes 
of  great  interest,  and  merits  careful  study.  The  earliest  French  colonies 
here  and  around  the  bay  were  swept  off  by  Massachusetts  armaments, 
and  Eastport  was  founded  by  Essex- County  fishermen,  in  1784.  In 
1 81 3  the  British  frigate  Martin  bombarded  the  little  town,  but  was 
driven  off  by  the  guns  of  the  fort;  and  a  year  later,  the  Ramilies,  74, 
and  a  powerful  fleet  took  the  place,  which  remained  under  British 
martial  law  for  four  )'ears.  Of  late  years  many  summer-travellers  and 
hay-fever  fugitives  have  sought  out  Eastport,  finding  comfortable  accom- 
modations at  the  Passamaquoddy  House,  and  enjoying  marine  excur- 
sions among  the  adjacent  islands.  The  village  is  reached  by  a  pleasant 
steamboat  route  down  the  river  from  Calais  and  St.  Andrews. 

Opposite  Eastport  is  the  Canadian  island  of  Campobello,  eight 
miles  long,  and  occupied  by  several  villages  of  fislvcrmen,  nestling  among 
the  coves  at  the  foot  of  far-viewing  hills.      Of  late  years  this  has  become 


150  Suhimer  Days  Down  East. 

a  fashionable  summer-resort,  patronized  by  the  elite  of  Boston,  and 
adorned  with  two  great  hotels,  the  Owen  and  the  Tyn-y-Coedd.  Large 
tracts  of  land  on  the  seaward-facing  bluffs  have  been  laid  out  for  summer- 
cottages,  and  it  seems  as  if  this  rugged  provincial  island  might  become 
a  sort  of  far-eastern  Nahant.  The  scenery  is  grand,  and  the  cool  breezes 
of  the  bays — Passamaquoddy  and  Fundy — make  the  air  delightful, 
and  fill  it  with  rare  tonic  and  bracing  properties. 

Grand  Manan,  "  the  paradise  of  cliffs,"  is  a  lofty  island,  at  the 
mouth  of  Passamaquoddy  Bay,  twenty-two  miles  long,  and  seven 
miles  from  the  Maine  coast,  from  which  its  amazing  precipices  are  seen, 
like  a  long  purple  wall,  looming  over  the  sea.  It  is  connected  with  the 
ports  on  the  bay  by  a  small  steamboat,  which  carries  out  large  freight- 
age of  artists  and  enthusiasts  for  grand  scenery.  There  are  upwards  of 
2,500  inhabitants  here,  honest,  earnest,  religious,  and  intelligent 
folk,  expert  in  the  fisheries,  and  mainly  descended  from  exiled 
Massachusetts  Loyalists.  The  powerful  tides  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy 
rush  impetuously  by  its  lofty  and  highly  colored  cliffs  and  picturesque 
rocky  bastions,  and  many  a  fatal  wreck  has  been  thrown  against  the 
iron-bound  coast.  There  are  several  quaint  maritime  hamlets  along  the 
shores,  and  good  roads  traverse  the  breezy  uplands,  from  Grand  Har- 
bor down  to  the  metropolis  of  gulls  at  South-west  Plead.  Noble  calls 
this  island  "the  very  throne  of  the  bold  and  romantic,"  and  many 
adorers  of  these  attributes,  coming  from  the  cities  of  New  England  and 
New  York,  have  found  here  the  fruition  of  their  hopes.  There  are 
several  boarding-house ^,  where  simple  fare  and  kindly  care  are  given, 
at  old-time  prices. 


Principal  Hotels. 


151 


PRINCIPAL    HOTELS   AND    BOARDING   HOUSES    ON    LINE    OF 
CENTRAL    RAILROAD    AND    CONNECTIONS. 


MAINE 


Station. 

Name  of 

Names  of 

Post-Office 

Ui 

Convey- 

Price 

per 

Houses. 

Proprietors. 

Address. 

Q^55 

ance. 

Daj 

- 

JMiles- 

•Portland   

Falmoutli   

y.  K.  Martin 

Portland   .. 

ILick 

$2  50  to 

$Voo 

"           

Preble  House  . . 

M.  S.  Gibson 

'• 

" 

2.00  to 

2.50 

"           

United  States    . 

W.  IL  McDonald.. 

" 

" 

2.00  to 

2.50 

"           

City  Hotel 

J.W.Robinson   ... 

" 

" 

2.00 

"          

Merchants'  E.-:. 

Geo.  Waterhouse  . . 

<< 

" 

2.00 

•  Varmouth  .... 

Baker  House  . . 

D.S.  Moody 

Yarmouth  . 

Car'ge 

*t<rceport   

Gushing  House 
Bcarding^ 

S.  E.  Cushing 

Mrs.  S.  H.  DiUing- 

Freeport   . . 

4 

Tontine  House 

Brunswicli. 

\ 

Hack 

2.00 

♦Brunswick. . . . 

S.  B.  Brewster  .... 

.... 

Union  House  . . 

Jas.  Jewell   

E.      Harps- 
well 

12 

Stage 

Merriconeag    . . 

A.  E.  Pinkham  .... 

So.    Harps- 
well  

14 

<, 

2.00 

1 1;irdinu:s 

Adams  House  . 

J.  J.  Conant 

Hardings   . 

I 

" 

1.50 

-Bath 

Sagadahoc    .... 

J.  M.Taylor 

jcre  Shannon    

"C.  M.  Plummer.... 
Perkins  &  Stacy  . . . 

Bath   

near 

I  Lack 

2.00  to 

3.00 

ii 

Bath      

Hun  ne- 
wel I's  Point 

" 

" 

1. 00 

<i 

12 

Ste'mer 

1 .50  to 

2.00 

"     

Allaquip|)a    ... 

C.O.Lowell 

Small  Point 

12 

" 

1. 00 

(< 

Sidney  House. . 
Samoset  House 

John  Sidney 

R.  W.  Haines 

Capitol  Is'd 
Mouse    Is'd 

IS 
IS 

(( 

'^     '.., 

.< 

1. 00  to 

2.  so 

(t 

Mrs.  Noble 

I.E. Knight 

Squirrel  Is'd 
Boothbay  . . 

(( 

"     

Boothlxiv    

iS 

'< 

1. 00  to 

2.00 

(( 

Weymouth     . . . 
Lincoln  House. 

L.  &  M.  Weymouth 
J.  L.  Robinson  .... 

(( 

IS 

near 

<t 

•Richmond 

Richmond  . 

Car'ge 

2.00 

"            .... 

Mitchell  House 

W.  L.  Mitchell  .... 

" 

'• 

1.50 

"           .... 

Richmond     . 

\\.  Springer 

< 

" 

2.00 

"Gardiner     . 

Evans  House  .. 
Johnson  House 

0.  C.  Rollins 

Benj.  Johnson 

Gardiner  .. 

" 

Hack 

2.00 
2.00 

"          

Boarding    

Wm.  G.  Heseltine. 

Pittfton  ... 

< 

" 

-Hallowell   .... 

Hallowell   

H.  Q^  Blake 

Hallowell.. 

near 

1.50 

"Augusta 

.Augusta  House 

E.  &  A.  C.  Manson 

Augusta   . . 

" 

3.50 

"         

Conv  House  . . . 

G.  A.  &  H.  Cony  .. 

" 

2  rds. 

" 

2.00 

"         

Hotel  North.  .. 

W.  S.  Baker 

" 

3  ids. 

" 

2.00 

"         

Central  House  . 

A.  H.  Brick 

" 

II 

1.50 

"Vassalboro'. . . 

Revere  House  . 

A.    M.    Bradley  & 

E.    Vassal- 
boro' 

4 

Stage 

1.50 

•Waterville  .... 

Elmwood    

Jas.  E.  Osborne... . 

Waterville  . 

Hack 

2.50 

" 

Smith  House  .. 

A.  0.  Bmith 

" 

1 

" 

2.O0 

'Clintnn 

Clinton  House 

C.  C.  Brown 

Clinton  .... 

\ 

Car'ge 

I. GO 

"         

Village  House 

A.  F.  Worthing  ... 

" 

1. 00 

*Burnham  

Railroad  House 

John  P.  Brown  .... 

Burnham  .. 

i5rds. 

" 

1. 00 

"             

Burnham      .... 

John  E.  Hart 

" 

20  " 

" 

1.50 

"             

\\  innecook 

Lake  House  . 

Wm.  Weed 

" 

5 

" 

1.00 

"            

Dodge  House. . 

Bradford  Dodge  ... 

" 

" 

'  Un  i  ty 

Central  1  louse  . 

E.  F.  Whitehouse. . 

Unity 

1 

" 

2.00 

'Tliorndilje  .... 

Dixmont  House 

A.  B.  Porter 

Freedom... 

4 

Stage 

I -SO 

"Brooks 

Rose  House  .    . 
Travelers  Home 

L.  &  A.  H.  Rose... 
Daniel  Jones 

Brooks  .... 

near 

•75 

"         

Monroe  Home  . 

Ellen  Mayo 

Monroe .... 

"• 

" 

^Belfast 

New  Enghmd  . 

American 

I'hcenix  House. 

C.  H.  Crosby 

H.  N.  Lancaster ... 
|.  C.  Robbins 

Belfast 

near 

H^ck 

2.00 

2. CO 

1.50 

Waverly  House 

H.  W.  Chase 

Northiiort  . 

3i 

Stage 

2.00 

Price 

per 

Week. 

$15.00  to 

$30.00 

lo.co  to 

30.00 

13.00  to 

2S.00 

lo.co  to 

14.00 

10.00  to 

14.00 

4.00 

3.00  to 

S.oo 

7.00  to 

10.00 

7.00  to 

10.00 

S.oo 

12.00  to 

20.00 

7.00  to 

14.00 

5.00  to 

7.00 

6.00  to 

9.00 

5.00 

7.00  to 

10.00 

7.00  to 

15.00 

S-oo  to 

12.00 

5.00  to 

12.00 

7.00 

S-oo 

6.00 

7.00  to 

20.00 

5.00  and  up'dsl 

6.00 

10.00  to 

15.00 

10.00  to 

15.00 

S.oo  to 

12.00 

6.00  to 

10.00 

7.00 

7.00  to 

iS.oo 

5  00  to 

10.00 

3-So 

3-50 

4.00 

3-SO 

4.00 

3-So 

lO.OO 

3.00 

3.00 

3.00 

7.00  to 

12.00 

7.00  to 

12.00 

lO.CO 

1 

300 

25c 

200 

IS" 
100 

SO 


ISO 
SO 
75 


so 
SO 
ISO 
75 
SO 
SO 
25 


100 

75 
12 

50 
ISO 
75 
75 
50 


5° 
100 

75 


5^^ 
SO 
»t>o 


♦Telegraph  Offices. 


I=i2 


Siiiniuey  Days  Down  East. 


«       -1 

>■ 

Station. 

Name  of 

Names  of 

Post-Office 

=  sj 

Convey- 

Price per 

Price 

per 

■■J 

Houses. 

Proprietors. 

Address. 

".^~. 

ance. 

Day. 

Week. 

c 

Q    t/. 

u 

Miics. 

♦Belfast 

Cleaves  House  . 

F.  W.  Nichols 

Stockton . . . 

10 

Stage 

$1.50 

$12.00  to  $1500 

3^ 

"         

Scarsport 

W.  Grinnell 

Searsport  . . 

6 

i.OO 

♦Pittsfield 

Lancey  House  . 

1.  11.  Lancey 

Pittsfield  .. 

near 

3.CO 

10.00 

so 

«'          

H«rtlandHouse  Ira  \V.  Pa<;e 

Hartland  .. 

7 

'1 

2.CO 

lo.rx) 

2S 

"          

Park  House.... 

R.  L.  Williams... 

" 

J. SO 

7.00 

2S 

•Detroir 

Boarding 

Geo.  Verriil 

Detroit    . . 

i 

•75 

35° 

10 

♦Newport   

Shaw  House 

Chas.  Sawyer 

Newport. . 

near 

Car'ge 

2.00 

7.00  to 

10.00 

so 

*Corinna 

Coiinna    House 

A.  L.  Grant 

Corinna 

'1 

IS 

♦Dexter  

.VIercliaiits'  Ex. 

W.  W.  Morrill 

Dexter 

J 

Hack 

2.CX> 

7.00  to 

12.00 

so 

"         

Uexter  House.. 

Spooner  &  Brady  .. 

"      

^ 

" 

1. 00 

SOD 

30 

East  Newport.. 

Plymouth 

E.J.  Prescott 

!.  F.Gray 

Plviiionth  .. 

4 

Stige 

l.OO 

4.00 

2J 

" 

Wayside 

Dixmont  .. 

lO 

" 

1. 00 

4.00 

20 

*Bangor 

B.insor  House  . 

F.  O.  Bcal 

Bangor 

f 

Hack 

2.00  to  $3.^0 

250 

•'         

Penobscot  Ex. 

I.  E.  Harriman 

"        .... 

" 

2.00  to      3  50 

SCO 

.\merican 

Chase  &  Thayer  . . 

"        .... 

" 

200 

us 

"         

Bansfor  Exch.  . 

A.  S.  Thaver 

"        .... 

J 

•1 

2.00 

2S 

"        

Marlborough  . . 

Chas.  Iliggins 

♦BarHarbor 

46 

Ste'incr 

or  stage 

2.50 

ia.50  to 

1S.00 

100 

"        

Rockaway 

Tobias  Roberts  .... 

" 

46 

" 

2.50 

10.00  to 

20.00 

ICO 

Hotel  Hamilton 

Geo.  W.  Hamilton. 

" 

46 

" 

2.00 

14.00  to 

iS.oo 

?p 

<< 

Hotel  St. Saveur 

F.J.  Alley 

*» 

46 
46 

*i 

^.OO 

10.50  to 
II .00  to 

31.00 

'75 

"        

Lynani  House  . 

I  no.  .'^   Lvnam 

<' 

1' 

2.00  to    2.50 

15.00 

100 

"        

Belmont  House 

Jr.o.  C.  Manchester 

" 

46 

11 

3.35 

12.00  to 

14.r0 

7S 

•'         

Hirch  Tree  Inn. 

I.Andrew  Rodick.. 

" 

46 

" 

2.00 

10.00  to 

1 3. CO 

40 

<•        

Atlantic  House 

Jno.  H.  Douglas  .. . 

•' 

46 

" 

2.00 

10.50  to 

17.00 

>2S 

*'        

.Newport  House 

Wm.  M.  Roberts  .. 

" 

46 

" 

2.50 

14.00  to 

1S.00 

ISO 

"        

Grand  Central  . 

R.  Hamor&Sons  .. 

" 

46 

" 

2.00  to      3.00 

13.00  to 

15.00 

4CO 

"        

Rodick  House. 

F.  &S    H.  Rodick. 

" 

46 

" 

2.00  to      3.00 

i3.nc  to 

16.00 

700 

u 

Hotel  Dcs  Isle. 

E.G.  Dcs  Isle 

•' 

46 

'1 

2.53 

14.00  to 

21.0C 

120 

u 

Malvern   House 

D.  G.  Fox 

11 

46 
46 

11 

so 

»i         

West  End 

O.  M.  Shaw  &  Son. 

'1 

11 

200 

"         

Kebo  House  ... 

.\ndriw  J.  Mills  ... 

•  1 

■t^ 

•' 

2.00 

9.00  to 

13.00 

40 

"         

Wayside  House 

.Mrs.  R.  G.  Higgins 

11 

46 

•1 

1.50 

6.CO  to 

10.00 

20 

"         

Ocean  House  .. 

Sam'l  Higgins   

" 

46 

2.00 

7.0c  to 

15.00 

2l 

"         

Parker  House.. 

E.C.  Parker 

11 

46 

I' 

2.00 

S.ooto 

13.00 

20 

"         

Freeman  House 

J.  A.  Freeman 

*So.    West 

Harbor  .. 

47 

" 

3.00 

9.C0  to 

12.0:; 

so 

"         

Island  House.. 

H.  H.Clark 

11 

47 

11 

2.00 

7. CO  to 

13.CC 

Oo 

"         

Hotel  Dirigo... 

C.  M.Holden 

1' 

47 

•1 

2.00 

7.CC  to 

13.00 

30 

"         

Ocean  House  .. 

X.  Teague,  Jr 

•< 

47 

'1 

2.00 

(■'.OC  to 

I3.CO 

so 

t( 

Stanley  House. 
Pemetic  House. 

S.  Stanley 

" 

47 

47 

„ 

2.00 

7.00  to 
7.00  to 

9.00 

\xxia 

25 

^0 

"         

H.  H.Clark 

"         

Harbor  House. 

.\.  H.  Haynes 

<i 

47 

11 

1.50 

6.00  to 

10.50 

>5 

**         

Sea  Wall  House 

S.  Moonev 

11 

47 
40 

it 

2S 

"         

Mt.  Desert 

C:has.  P.  Somers... 

Mt.  Desert. 

•  1 

2.CO 

6.C0  to 

10.00 

«s 

"         

Central  House. 

Wm.  Fcnneley 

•• 

40 

" 

2.00 

6.00  to 

IOJX> 

23 

"         

Sea  Shore 

(.  Clement  it  Son  .. 

Long  Pond. 

52 

" 

1.50 

•'         

Boarding 

C.  H.  Clement 

11 

52 

'• 

l.JO 

'•         

Kimball  House 

D.  Kimball 

«• 

52 

•1 

1.50 

20 

i( 

Sullivan  ... 
S.  Hancock 
Veazie 

3S 

t( 

75 
'5 

1, 

McFarland 

„ 

9.00 

7.00 

•Veazie 

Everett  House. 

A.  B.  Waters 

Car'ge 

1.50 

*Oroiio 

Orono  House  .. 

W.  F   Lunt 

Orono 

\ 

i« 

>-5^ 

5. CO 

2S 

•0);ltown 

Codman  House 

J.  M.  Robinson 

Oldtown  . . . 

\ 

•  1 

2.0c 

6.00  to 

S.oo 

.S3 

"          

Cousins  House. 

E.  Cousins 

" 

\ 

" 

2.00 

6.00  to 

S.CO 

50 

•Blanchard  .... 

*Kineo  House  . 

O.  A.  Dcnnen 

Greenville  . 

i  20  < 

13 

Stage 

75 

Lake  House  ... 

LittleSelcl  &  Sawyer 

11 

Stage 

75 

Evelcth  House. 

A.  11.  Walker 

11 

13 

I' 

ST 

Outlet  Houso.. 

H.J.  Wilson 

1' 

30 

U  innegarnock. 

.Simecn  Savage 

•  1 

20 

Duer  Island 

Uoach  River... 
Wilson  Pond  .. 

';''     : 

15 

15 

A.  H.  Walker 

21 

Shirley  House.. 
Lake  Hebron  . . 

H.  KnowlfS 

Shirley 

3C 

Monson  Village 

Lake  Hebron  Hotel 

Co 

Monson  Vil. 

5 

Car'ge 

5c 

•Telegraph  Offices. 


Principal  Hotels. 


153 




v 

Station. 

Name  of 
Houses. 

Names  of 
Proprietors. 

Post-Office 
Address. 

Sp-5 

Convey- 
ance. 

Price  per 
Day. 

Price  per 
Week. 

0    c/: 

U 

Miles. 

*AbbotVillas;e. 

Abbott  Village. 

D.  H.Buxton 

Abliot    Vil. 

2 

*Guillord 

*Dover 

Turner  House  . 
Bletlien  House. 

Giiiliord  . . . 
Dover 

„ 

\Vm.  Blethen 

near 

Car'ge 

5' 

"        

Foxcrolt  Ex.... 

John  Wood 

Foxcroft   . . 

" 

•' 

4' 

Katahdin     Iron 

Works 

Silver  Lake 

0.  W.  Davis 

K.  L Works 

<=f. 

Brownville 

Rrownville 

N.  Herrick 

Brownville 

. 

3t 

*.Milo   

John  Gould 

|.  S.  Adams 

Milo   

Milford   

American 

Milford.... 

" 

$1.25 

$5.00 

SC 

'..'.'.'... 

Boarding: 

.Mrs.  F.  A.  Cannev. 
A.  P.  Mayhew...'. . 

"        '.'.'.'. 

u 

1. 00 
•50 

4. CO 

3-50 

Sc 

♦Passadumkeasr 

PassadumUeas;. 

IL  Chapman 

Passad'k'g. 

<' 

1.00 

♦Lincoln 

Lincoln  House. 

David  Stockbridije. 

Lincoln 

" 

1.50 

4.00  to 

$7.00 

3C 

"        

Mansion  House 

M.IL  &  J.B.Stetscn 

"        . . . . 

'< 

I -SO 

4.00  to 

7.00 

3C 

*Winn 

Katahdin  House 

S.  B.  Gates 

Winn 

ne.ir 

" 

2.00 

J  0.00 

IOC 

"      

Duck  Lake 

A.  E.  Gorosee 

Springfield 

20 

Stage 

1.50 

0.00 

2C 

t( 

G.  L.  F.  Bail 

ft 

IS, 

(( 

I. SO 
1.50 
1.50 
I -SO 

11 

Springfield 

IL  Burr 

« 

11 

,, 

C.  E.  Bayington... 
C.  L.  Hackett 

35 
35 

,1 

*M;;tt'\vanikeag 

Patten   House.. 

Patten 

<< 

7.00 

5c 

'< 

Moluncus 

B.  F.  Coburn 

S. Moluncus 

7 

" 

I -SO 

4. CO 

2! 

" 

Sewell  House.. 

\V.  W.  Sewell 

Island  Falls 

35 

" 

I -SO 

S-oo 

2( 

♦Kingman 

Kinsiman 

Larrabee  Bros 

Kingman  . . 

Car'ge 

•75 

4.00 

5C 

♦Danforlli   

Danlortli  House 

A.  D.  Morse 

Danlorth  .. 

near 

,, 

1. 00 

3-50 
3-50 

*V'anceboro'  . . . 

Vanceboro'  .... 

M.  L.  Ross 

Vanceboro' 

at 

V 

"            ... 

McDonald's  II'l 

D.  McDonald 

«' 

near 

1.00 

3-35 

25 

*Gray   

Chas   Gibbs 

GrayCorner 

3 

Sta"'e 

1.50 

S  00 

Farm 

Silas  Adams 

West  Gray. 

*Auhurn 

Elm  House 

\Vm.  Young 

Auburn   

near 

Hack 

2.00 

14.00 

iSe 

"        

Maine  Hotel 

Wm.  Spooner 

" 

" 

" 

1. 00 

6.00 

5c 

"        

Grand  View... 

S.  E.  Brown 

W.  Auburn 

ih 

Stage 

1.50 

7.00 

15c 

"        

Lake  Auburn. . 

" 

S' 

2.00  to  $2.50 

10.00  to 

15.00 

•'        

Turner  Hotel.. 

Calvin  McKenny  . . 

Turner 

10 

" 

1.50 

7.00 

»*        

15 

«< 

1.50 
2.50 

*Le\viston 

DeWitt  House. 

Quimby  &  Murch. . 

Lewiston  . . 

Hack 

10.00  to 

16.00 

150 

"         

Marston  } louse 

D.  C.  Hathaway... 

" 

1 

" 

2.00 

6.0c  to 

14.00 

ICW 

♦Monmouth   ... 

Boarding 

Cochne\vas;an. . 

I.  S.  Ballard 

D.  A.  Pinkh.im.... 

Monmouth. 

3i 

Car'ge 

J -25 

6.00 

20 

*\Vinthrop 

Winthrop   

Boarding 

Webb  &  Richardson 

Franklin  Wood 

A.  G.  Chandler.... 

Ezra  Norcross 

Mrs.  Geo.  Bailey  .. 

Winthrop. . 

\ 

i 
2 

3 

" 

I -so 

7.00 

7.00 
7.C0 

7.00 
7.00 

70 
12 
10 

8 
S 

(1 

<( 

L  A.  Carr 

E.  Winthr'p 
Wayne 

3 
6 

Stage 

"          

Wayne 

W.  S.  Howard 

1. 00 

4.00  to 

7.00 

30 

♦Maranacook  .. 

Maranacook 
Dinin^^ 

Winthrop. . 

30 

♦Readficld    

Maranacook  . . . 
Dolly  House   . . 

G.  M.  Fillcbrown.. 
DoUv  &  Folsoni  . . . 

Readficld  . . 

2 

I 

** 

6.00  to 
4.00  to 

10.00 
<;.oo 

40 
20 

"           .... 

Lake  View  .... 

T.  y.  Townsend... 

"    D'p't 

1 ' 

" 

4.00  to 

6.00 

25 

"            .... 

Smith  Farm 1 

Freds.  Packard... 

I.        t. 

I 

" 

4.00  to 

6.00 

IS 

"           .... 

Upliam  House  . 

E.  W.  Lewis 

11        ti 

2 

'• 

5.00  to 

S.co 

40 

"            

Hillside  Farm  .  1 

A.  W    Bniinerd 

"       " 

I 

" 

4. CO  to 

6.C0 

2S 

*Bi;ly:rade 

Kailroad  House 

Leander  Y eaton  . . . 

Belgrade  .. 

near 

1. 00 

S-oo 

20 

"          

Central  House  . : 

Chas.  H.  Austin. . . 

"     MiU- 

6 

'< 

1. 00 

5  Po 

*No.  Beli^rade  . 

No.l'ond  House 

Simonds  Bros 

Smithfield  . 

4 

" 

1.00 

5. CO 

2S 

♦Oakland 

O.ikhind  House 

B.F.  Frizzcll 

Oakland  . . . 

near 

Car'ge 

1.50  to     2.ro 

5.00 

■5 

'•         

Lake  House  . .  . 

W.  F.  Cunningham 

"        ... 

" 

1.50  to     2.00 

S-co 

20 

"         

E.  Pond  House 

Simonds  Bros 

■Smithfield  . 

4 

'< 

1.00 

S-oo 

20 

♦Fairfield 

I'  air*ield  House 

A.  S.  Pe.ase 

Fairfield    .. 

near 

" 

2  00 

5.00  to 

10.50 

SO 

♦Skowliegan   .. 

Heseltcn  House 

F.  B.  Heselton 

Skowhegan 

" 

Hack 

1.50  to     2.50 

10.50  to 

1 4. CO 

ISO 

" 

Hotel  Coburn. . 

Robt.  W.  Haines  .. 

" 

" 

" 

2. CO 

S.oo  to 

12.00 

100 

" 

Carritunk  Ho.. . 

Geo.  E.  Washburn 

Solon    

IS 

Stage 

1.50 

5.00  to 

7.00 

^0 

■ '  1 

t'arney's  House 

John  Carney 

Carritunk . . 

3^ 

1. 00  to      2.00 

5.00  to 

9.00 

SO 

♦Telegraph  Offices. 


154 


Simimer  Days  Down  East. 


Names  of 
Houses. 


*Skowhcg;ui 


♦Lisbon  Fulls. 
♦Lisbon 


*Sabalti5ville  .. 
*S!.ricl;lantl's  fy. 
*L.  Livcrinore . 
*Livfrmorc  F'ls 

*No.  J;iv 

*\Vil.on     


East  Wilton  . 
*Fannington 


♦Phillips. 


Forks  Hotel  . . . 
Parlin  Pond  . .. 
St;i'rc  House  . . . 

Hoibniok 

Maine  Central  . 
Lisbon  House  . 

Boarding' 

Sabattus  House 

Livermore 

Boarding- 

Knockomtka  .. 
National  House 
Franklin  House 
Wilton  House  . 
Boardins 


Name  of 
Proprietors. 


Joseph  Clark.. 
A.  F.  Adams . 


S.  P.  Littlefield  . . . . 

W.  B.  Jordan 

J.  P.  Merchant 

'F.  E.  Spoftord 

R.  D.  Morse 

Mrs.J.H.Sturtevant 
C.  G.  Thwing&Co.l 


Norridgewock  . 


♦Madison 

Anson 

♦North  Anson.. 


♦Farmington  or 
♦No.  Anson.. 


♦St.  John Roynl  House  .. 

•'        Duirerii)  House 


Gilbert  Miiler 

C.  M.  Richards 

Dr.  A.  B.  Adams.. 

Jas.  York 

E.  Newman 

Frank  Morton 

J.B.  Marble 

J.  W.  Withee 

E.  Wej-mouth 

y.  Knowlton 

T.  L.  Page 

Samuel  Farmer. . . . 

U.  L.  Hillgrove 

George  M.  Estey  . . 

J.  A.^Burke 

E.  Gr.ant 

H.T.  Kimball 


Morfcon  Hr.use. 
Hotel  Marble  . . 
Stoddard  House 
Lake  House  . .. 

Exchange  

Elmwood 

Barden  Hcusc. 
Mt  Blue  Hou<;e 
Green  VaU-  .... 
Rangeley  L<lic 

Oquossoc 

Mountain  \"icv.- 


Forest  Retreat,  j  Grant  &  Richardson 
MoosemeguntijC.  T.  Richardson.. 
Upper  Dam John  Chadwick  . . . . 


Camp  Bcma....  [•'.  C.  Barker. 
Sawyer  House,  it-awyer  Bros. 


Norridgewock  .  G.  S.  Jer^-ett 

.Mercer  House. .  C'.,;orge  E.  Snow. 

Madison D.  W.  Siraonds  . . 

Kennebec 1 

Somerset Brown  &  Hilton  . 

Paine  House  . . .  N.  Gray 


Fl.agstaff  House  G.  A.  Hewett... 
Shaw  House...  IShaw  &  Page... 
Mt.  Bige'.ow  ...  Samuel  Parsons 
Quint  ll-juse...|Orlaijdo  Quint.. 


Dirigo  House. .  jHanson  Richardson 
Blaisdell  House  R.  Blaisdell 


Tim  Pond 

Bo.irding 

Seven  P.^nds 

Boarding. 
Coburn  House 


1  Kcnnedv  Smith. 


Zadoc  Norton. 


Internr-.tioiial. 


T.  F.  Raymond.... 

F.  \.  lones 

R.  S.  llykc 

Wiivc  luyHouSt  J.  Guthrie 

7Ccv/  Victoria  . .  j  D.  W.  McCormack, 
r.-.n:  llrusc i  Edwards  &  Philips, 


Post-Office 

IeI 

Convey. 

Address. 

■l^l 

ance. 

Miles. 

The  Forks. 

46 

Stage 

Parlin  Pond 

61 

Bingham  . . 

23 

23 

„ 

Lisbon  F'lls 

2ords. 

Car'ge 

Lisbon 

1 

" 

Sabattisvi'e 

2ords. 

Livermore . 

5 

Stage 

FavetteCor. 

3 

Car'ge 

Liv'rm'sF's 

near 

Dixfield  ... 

15 

Stage 

Wilton 

I 
I 

** 

Webb..!!!! 

I 
IS 

** 

EastWilton 

15 

near 

Farm'gton. 

Car'ge 

Phillips.... 

near 

ic-ds. 

6 

I 

Greenvale  . 

>7 

Stage 

Rangeley  . . 

30 
20 

« 

** 

26 

Stage  & 
Steamer 

Kennebago 

Lake  .... 

39 

Stage 

Rich^dson 

38 

Stage  & 
Steamer 

Up.Dami;/a 

Indian  R'k 

40 

«« 

Bema 

S8 

•< 

South   Nor. 

ridgewock 

Car'ge 

Norrid'w'k 

s 

Mercer 

i 

Stage 

Madison . . . 

Car'ge 

Anson 

No.  Anson. 

1 

** 

Flagstaff  . . 

37 

Stage 

Eustis 

45 

" 

Dead  River 

27 

" 

North  New 

Portland. 

8 
S 

« 

West    New 

Portland. 

13 

" 

Eustis 

37 

37 
37 

;; 

IV.B. 

St.  John.... 

Hack 

Price  per 
Day. 


1.50 

1.50 
1.00 

i-So 
1.50 

1.50 
1.50 
2.00 

1.50 

1.50 

1.50 
1.50 
3.00 

I.OC 


1.50 
1.50 


il.OO  to  $2.CO 
1. 00  to      2.00 

1.00  to 
1. 00  to 
2.00 
1. 00 

•75 

1. 00 

1. 00 
2.00 

1. 00 

1 .50  to      2.00 

1 .50  to      2.00 


1. 00 
3.00 
3.00 
1. 25 
1. 25 

2.00 
1.50 
2.00 
2.00 
2.00 

3.00 

3.00 

2.00 

2.00 
2.00 


Price  per 
Week. 


$5.00  to  $14.00 
5. CO  to  14.00 
5 .00  to  S.co 
5.00  to  S.oo 
7.00 
5.00 

3-50 
4.00 
4xx> 

S.oo 

3.00  to 

3.00  to 

5.00 

3.00  to 

3.00  to 

5.00 

7.00  to     10.00 

7.00  to      10.00 

7.00 
7.00 

7.00 

5.00  to  7.00 
7.00  to  10.00 
7.a-3  to  10.00 
10.00 

7. CO  to     10.00-     60 

I2.0O 

7.00 


s.oo 
5.00 


5.00 
5.00 


3-5°  t" 
3-5°  to 
3.C0  to 
4.00 
S-oo 
5.00  to 
4.00  to 

3.C0  to 
3.00  to 
5.00  to 

3.00  to 
3.00  to 


3.00  to      s.oo 


6  CO 

O.CO 

5.00 


10  00 
S.OO 

S.oo 

10.00 

S.co 
S.oo 


■^T^l-r-p^aph  Offices. 


Principal  Hotels. 


155 


Station. 

Xame  of 
Houses. 

Names  of 
Proprietors. 

Post-Office 
Address. 

0 
y  -  = 

III 

5"c^ 

Convey. 

ance. 

Price  per 
Day. 

Price  per 
\\cek. 

u 
0 

Intercolonial  H. 
Depot  House. . 
Mansard  House 
Weldon  House. 
Koyal  House  . . 
Phcenix  House 
Point  Du  Chene 

Weldon  House. 

Dorchester 

Weldon  House. 
Brunswick 

Hamilton    Ter. 

Lamays 

Norfolk  House. 
Roj-al  House  . 
Banquet  House 
Eureka  House. 

Waverley 

Clareraont 

Belle  Vue 

Halifax  House. 
International  .. 
Waverley 

P.  McKay 

Sussex 

Pctitcodiac 
Moncton... 

Point  Du 

Chene  ... 
Shediac  . . . 
Dorchester. 

Sackville  .. 

JV.S. 
Amherst... 

N.  Glasgow 

Pictou 

Bedford'!!! 
Halifax.... 

Miles. 

Car'ge 
Hack 

Car'ge 
Hack 

40 
40 
30 
50 
40 
40 

5° 

A.  McLean 

Ritchie 

*Moncton 

W.  J.  Weldon 

W.Wallace 

E.  White 

*Pt.  Du  Chene . 
*Shediac 

Geo.  L.  Harington  . 

*Dorchester. . . . 
Sackville 

W.  D.  Wilbur 

W.  L.  Wilbur 

G.  B.  Estabrooks  & 

5° 
5° 

40 

3.=; 
40 

75 
so 
20 
60 

30 

40 
40 

liO 

100 
5^ 

*Amherst 

W.J.  Hamilton.... 
N.  C.  Calhoun 

*Pictou  .„^.. .. 
♦Bedford.'.'!!!! 

♦Halifax.!!!!!! 

' 

S.  C.  Graliam 

D.  McDearmid 

D.  Munroe 

Miss  Mcl./ean 

H.  B.Sellon 

Thos  Beech 

H.Hesslein&Son.. 
Archibald  Nelson. . 
Miss  Roman 

♦Telegraph  Otfices. 


INDEX. 


Abacotnetic  Bog,  137. 
Abagadusset,  21. 
Abbott,  132,  153. 
Abbott  Family,  30,  75. 
Abraham,  Mount,  78. 
Acadians,  144. 
Addison,  127. 
Allagash,  145. 
Allerton  Lodge,  85. 
Amherst,  N.D.,  155. 
Anderson,  Gen.  Robert,  3-. 
Andover,  87. 
Androscoggin  Pond,  72. 
Androscoggin  Ri\er,  50. 
Andros,  Sir  Edmund,  19,    119. 
Anemone  Cave,  126. 
Annabesacook  Lake,  52. 
Anson,  64,  154. 
Apples,  75. 
Arnold's    Expedition,   28,    34, 

61,65,83. 
Aroostook  Country,  145. 
Arrowsic,  95. 
Arsenal,  Kennebec,  34. 
Arsenal,  State,  129. 
Ashburton,  Lord,  64. 
Ashburton  Spring,  102. 
Assacombuit,  14. 
Athens,  62,  64. 
Attean  Pond,  69. 
A  uburn,  45,153- 


Augusta,  31,  151. 
Aziscoos,  86. 

Baker  Lake,  137. 
Bald  Mountain,  83,  85. 
Bancroft,  141. 
Bangor,  128,  152. 
Bar  Harbor,  124,  152. 
Bar  Island,  126. 
Baring,  Alexander,  64. 
Dartol,  Cyrus  A.,  15. 
Bates  College,  49,  50. 
Bath,  21,  90,  94,  99,  I  - 1 . 
Batty,  Mount,   113. 
Bedford,  N.S.,  155. 
Beech  Ilill,  79. 
Belfast,  42,  115,  151. 
Belgrade,  54,  76,  153 • 
Bellamy,  Captain,  105. 
Benton,  42. 

Bigelow,  .Mount,  61,  65,  154. 
I'lillings,  Josh,  81. 
Bingham,  64,  154. 
Blackstrap  Mill,  13. 
Blaine,  James  G.,  32. 
Blanchard,  133,  152. 
Blue,  Mount,  79. 
Boardman,  George  D.,41,  76. 
Boniaseen,  14. 

Bombardment  of  Portland,  11, 
61. 

156 


Bodwell  Quarries,  loS. 

Bomford,  Col.,  35. 

Boothbay,  94,  151. 

Bowdoin  College,  16. 

Bowdoinhani,  21. 

B  Pond,  132. 

Bramhall  Mill,  13. 

Brandy  Point,  85. 

Brassua  Lake,  137. 

Brigadier  Island,  116. 

Brighton,  60,  64. 

Bristol,  103. 

British  Naval  Attacks,  11,  97, 

99,  100,  104,    108,  114,  115, 

117,  120,  128,  149. 
Brooks,  151. 
Brownvillc,  131,  153. 
Brunswick,  15,  151. 
Buck's  Cove,  132. 
Bucksport,  1 17. 
Bugle  Cove,  85. 
Bull,  Dixey,  103,  105. 
Burnham,  42,  151. 
Burnt  Island,  98. 
Hurr,  Aaron,  65. 
Butler,  B.  F.,  41. 
Byron,  74. 

Calais,  148. 
Camden,  1 12. 
Camp  Aziscoos,  86. 


Index. 


^57 


Camp  Bellevue,  86. 
Ca:iip  Bema,  74,  85,  154. 
Camp  Caribou,  89. 
Camp  Kennebago,  84. 
Campobello,  149. 
Camp  Whitney,  86. 
Cape  Cod,  76. 
Cape  Rosier,  120. 
Capitol  Island,  98,  151. 
Carraljasset  Falls,  59. 
Caribou,  146. 
Caribou  Lake,  138. 
Caribou  Narrows,  68. 
Carmel,  43. 
Carney's,  65,  153. 
Carritunk  Falls,  63,  153. 
Carrying  Place,  65. 
Carver's  Harbor,  108. 
Casco  Bay,  14. 
Castine,  108,  11 8. 
Caucomgomoc,  138. 
Chain  Ponds,  61. 
Chairback,  132. 
Chamberlain,  J.  L.,  17. 
Chamberlain  Lake,  138,  145. 
Chamcook  Mountain,  149. 
Chandler,  Peleg  W.,  45. 
Chelsea,  35. 
Cherryfield,  127. 
Chesuncook  Lake,  138,  144. 
China,  37,  39. 

Chiputneticook  Lakes,  141. 
Churchill  Lake,  145, 
Clam  Cove,  114. 
Clearwater  Pond,  77. 
Clinton,  42,  62,  151. 
Cobbossee  Contee   Pond,  24, 

25.  28,  35,  53. 
Coburn,  41,  62. 
Colby  University,  40. 
Condy's  Harbor,  20. 
Cony  Academy,  2,2)- 
Corinna,  43,  152. 
Corn,  75. 

Cowan's  Cove,  1 36. 
Crabtree's  Neck,  127. 


Cranberry  Tsles,  1:53. 
Crowley's,  71. 
Crystal  Lake,  109. 
Cumberland,  14,  44. 
Cupsuptic  Lake,  84. 
Cushing,  106. 
Cushing's  Island,  12. 
Cutler,  127. 

Damariscotta,  103. 
Danforth,  141,  153. 
Danville  Junction,  45. 
Dead  River,  60,61,  62,  67,  76, 

83,  154- 
Dearborn,  Gen.  Henry,  28,  52, 

65- 
Debec  Junction,  143. 
Decker  Pond,  66. 
Deer  Isle,  109,  135. 
Detroit,  42,  152. 
Devil's  Elbow,  145. 
Dexter,  43,  152. 
Dice's  Head,  120. 
Dixfield,  74,  154. 
Dixmont,  152. 
Dorchester,  N.  B.,  155. 
Dover,  132,  153. 
Dresden,  22,  24. 
Duck  Brook,  126. 
Dudley,  Governor,  14. 

Eagle  Lakes,  126,  127,  144. 

East  Auburn,  46. 

East  Newport,  152. 

East  Outlet,  135. 

East  Pond,  39,  153. 

Eastport,  149. 

East  Wilton,  74,  154. 

Ebeeme  Ponds,  131. 

Echo  Lake,  122. 

Edgecomb  Heights,  103. 

Edmundston,  144. 

Embden,  64. 

Endless  Lake,  131. 

Enheld,  141. 

Enterprise  and  Boxer,  99, 1 14. 


Errol  Dam,  88. 
Etna,  43. 

Eureka  House,  92. 
Eustis,  60,  76,  154. 
Explorers,  3. 

Fairfield,  61,  153. 

Falmouth,  11,  14. 

Falmouth  Foreside,  14. 

Farmington,  74,  154. 

Fessenden,  W.  P.,  45. 

Fire  Islands,  95. 

Flagstaft'  Plantation,  61,  154. 

Forest,  3,  141. 

Forks,  The,  60,  63,  67,  154. 

Fort  Andros,  19. 

Fort  Edgecomb,  loi. 

Fort  Fairfield,  145. 

Fcrt  Frederic'x,  104. 

Fort  George,  19. 

Fort  Halifax,  38. 

Fort  Knox,  117. 

Fort  Loyal,  10. 

Fort  JNlcDonough,  102. 

Fort  Point,  116. 

Fort  Popham,  92. 

Fort  Pownal,  117. 

Fort  Richmond,  22,  58. 

Fort  Shirley,  22. 

Fort  Western,  34,  65. 

Foxcroft,  132,  153. 

Fox  Islands,  loS,  121. 

Fredericton,  142. 

Freedom,  1 5 1. 

Freeport,  15,  151. 

Fremont,  Gen.,  126 

French  Canadians,  48,  60,  67. 

Frenchman's  Bay,  127. 

Friendship,  106. 

Gardiner,  25,  151. 
Gardiner,  Dr.  Sylvestei,  27. 
Gardiner,  Sir  Christopher,  18. 
Georges  River,  105. 
Germans,  105. 
Gorges,  Sir  F.,  4,  10,  21,  44. 


>58 


Index, 


Grafton  Notch,  88. 
Grand  Falls,  6i. 
Grand  Lake,  148. 
Grand  Manan,  150. 
Granite,  31,  107. 
Gray,  44,  153. 
Great  Pond,  122. 
Greenbush,  141. 
Greene,  52. 
Greenleaf,  Simon,  44. 
Green  Mountain,  127. 
Greenvale,  79,  81,  154. 
Greenville,  133,  134,  144,  152. 
Guilford,  132,  153. 

Haines  Landing,  85. 
Halifax,  142,  143,  155. 
Hallovvell,  29,  151. 
Hamlin,  Cyrus,  73. 
Hammond's  Grove,  35. 
Hancock,  127,  152. 
Hardings,  151. 
Harmony,  42. 
Harpswell,  19,  151. 
Harrington,  127. 
Hartland,  42,  152. 
Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  18,  51. 
HaydenLake,63. 
Hebron  Academy,  47. 
Hebron  Lake,  133. 
Hell  Gate,  95. 
Hermon,  43. 
Hoar,  Deacon,  82. 
Hockomock  Point,  95. 
Holeb  Pond,  69. 
Houlton,  143,  146. 
Howard,  Gen.  O.  O.,  30,  35, 

72. 
Howe,  Timothy  O.,  47. 
Howells,W.  I).,  5. 
Hudson,  Hendrick,  123. 
Hull's  Cove,  121,  126. 
Hunnewell's  Beach,  92,  151. 
Hurricane  Falls,  61. 
Hurricane  Isle,  107 


Ice,  22,  23,  24, 26. 

Iceboro',  24. 

Indian  Rock,  84. 

Indians,  4,  10,  18,  19,  21,  22, 
27.24,37.  38,45.46,49.52, 
56,  57.  71.  74,  92,93,94-  96, 
98,  100,  loi,  103,  104,  105, 
III,  112,  119, 126,  136, 140, 
148. 

Industry,  60,  77. 

Insane  Asylum,  34. 

Island  Falls,  153. 

Isle-au-Kaut,  108,  121, 

Islesborough,  116. 

Jamestown,  104. 

Jay,  73.- 

Jevvonke  Neck,  loi. 
Jonesborough,  127. 
Jonesport,  127. 
Katahdin,  Mount,  138. 
Katahdin  Iron  Works,  131,151. 
Keerdormeorp,  27. 
Kellogg,  Elijah,  20. 
Kench's  Mountain,  120. 
Kennebago  Lake,  83,  154. 
Kennebec  Dam,  34. 
Kennebec  River,  24,  135. 
Kent's  Hill,  54. 
Kidd,  Captain,  105. 
Kingfield,  60. 
Kingman,  153. 
Knox  and  Lincoln  R.R.,  99. 
Knox,  Gen.  Henry,  64,  106. 

Ladd,  William,  47. 

Lake,  Sir  Biby,  22. 

Lakes,  3. 

Lake  Auburn  Spring,  46,  153. 

I>eeils,  72. 

Leeds  Junction,  52,  72. 

Lewiston,  48,  153. 

Libbey  Hill,  28. 

Light  Literature,  33. 

Lily  Bay,  135. 

I-ime,  106. 


Lincoln,  141,  153. 
Lincolnville  Pond,  113. 
Lisbon  Falls,  71,  154. 
Literary  Interest,   4,   10,  125, 

128. 
Livermore  Falls,  72,  154. 
Loading  Ice,  27. 
Longfellow,  H.  W.,  4,  11,  17 

74,  99- 
Long  Pond,  61,  152. 
Louis  Philippe,  30. 
Lover's  Leap,  130. 
Lowell,  J.  R.,  136,  137. 
Lubec,  127. 
Lumber,  29,  129. 

Machias,  127. 
Madawaska,  144. 
Madison,  59,  154. 
Madison  Mills,  63. 
Madockawando,  219. 
Madrid,  79. 
Magalloway  River,  88. 
Maine,  3. 

Maine  Central  Railroad,  6. 
Mantho-Mer  Spring,  102. 
Maranacook  Lake,  53,  153. 
Maritime  Provinces,  143. 
Mattawamkeag,     138,     139, 

141,  153- 
McAdam  Junction,  142,  147. 
Megantic  Lake,  61,  65,  134. 
Mere  Point,  18. 
Megunticook,  112. 
Mercer,  154. 
Merrymeeting  Bay,  21. 
Messalonske  Lake,  54. 
Metalic  Point,  87. 
Middle  Dam,  87. 
Milford,  14!,  153. 
Millbridge,  127. 
Milltown,  148. 
Milo,  131,  153. 
Minot,  47. 

MoUychunkamunk  Lake,  86. 
Molunkus,  153. 


Index. 


159 


Molyneaux  Pond,  113. 
Moncton,  N.  B.,  155. 
Monhegan,  98. 
Monmouth,  52,  153. 
Monson,  133,  152. 
Montpelier,  106. 
Morrill,  Lot  M.,  33. 
Moody  Islands,  136. 
Moore,  Sir  John,  118. 
Moosehead  Lake,  43,  64,   68, 

134- 
Mooselucinagunlic    Lake,  74, 

84,  154. 
Moose-River  Village,  69. 
Morititri  Salutamzis,  17. 
Moscow,  65. 
Mount  Desert,  121,  152. 
Mount  Kineo,  135. 
Mouse  Island,  97,  151. 
jNIoxie  Pond,  68. 
Munjoy's  Hill,  9. 
Murray,  John,  96. 

Nequasset,  99. 

New  Brunswick,  142. 

Newcastle,  103,  105. 

New  Gloucester,  45. 

Newport,  42. 

New  Portland,  61,  154. 

Newport  mountain,  125,  126. 

New  Sharon,  54,  76. 

New  Sweden,  146. 

New  Vineyard,  59. 

Noriidgewock,  19,  55,  65,154. 

North  Anson,  59,  76,  154. 

North  Bay,  137. 

North-east  Harbor,  122. 

North  Haven,  108. 

North  Jay,  73,  154. 

Northport,  115,  155. 

Norton,  75. 

Oak  Grove  Seminary,  37. 
Oak  Hill,  15. 
Oakland,  39,  54,  153. 
Oakland  Place,  28. 


Ocean  Point,  98. 
O'Hara,  quoted,  36. 
Old  Orchard,  12. 
Old  Point,  57. 
Oldtown,  140,  152. 
Oliver  Hill.  35. 
Onaway  Lake,  133. 
Oquossoc,  82,  154. 
Orono,  140,  152. 
Orr's  Island,  19,  20. 
Otter  Creek  Cliffs,  126. 
Outlet,  %i. 
Ovens,  The,  126. 

Pamedomcook  Lake,  138. 
Parlin  Pond,  69,  154. 
Parmachenee  Lake,  84,  88. 
Passadumkeag,  141,  153. 
Passamaquoddy  Bay,  147. 
Patten,  141,  153. 
Pejepscot,  18. 
Pemaquid,  103. 
Penobscot  Bay,  107,  no. 
Penobscot  Lake,  137. 
Pentagoet,  119. 
Pentecost  Harbor,  96. 
Percival,  Mount,  116. 
Percy,  Florence,  78. 
Perkins,  24. 
Phillips,  78,  154. 
Phips,  Sir  Wm.,  100,  104. 
Phippsburg,  93. 
Pittsfield,  42,  152. 
Pittston,  26,  151. 
Pleasant  Point,  149. 
Pleasant  Pond,  68. 
Pleasant-ridge  Ponds,  66. 
Poland  Spring,  50. 
Pond-town  Plantation,  52. 
Popham,  93. 
Porcupine  Island,  126. 
Portland,  9, 151. 
Potatoes,  147. 
Presque  Isle,  146. 
Princeton,  148. 
Prison,  State,  106. 


Pulp,  40. 

Purchas,  T ,  18,  71. 

Quaker  Ridge,  72. 

Railroads,  5. 
Rainbow  Cascade,  77, 
Rangeley,  81,  154. 
Rangeley  Lakes,  79. 
Rasle,  Father,  57. 
Readfield,  54. 
Republican  Party,  78. 
Richardson  Ponds,  86. 
Richmond,  23,  151. 
Richmond  Mineral  Spring,  24. 
Riggsville,  95. 
Ripogenus  Lake,  138. 
Riverside,  37. 
Roach  Pond,  135. 
Rockland,  106,  112. 
Rockport,  113. 
Rokomeka,  72. 
Rollo  Books,  75. 
Rome,  54. 
Rosier,  Cape,  103. 
Royal  River,  44. 
Ryder's  Cove,  109. 

Sabattis,  19,  154. 
Sabattus  Pond,  72. 
Sabbath  Day  Pond,  51, 
St.  Andrew,  148. 
St.  Catherine's  Hall,  33, 
St.  Castin,  Baron,  119. 
St.  Francis,  144. 
St.  George,  106. 
St.  John,  142,  154. 
St.  John  River,  144. 
St.  Sauveur,  121. 
St.  Stephen,  148. 
Salem,  78. 
Sandy  Bay,  68. 
Sandy  River,  74,  77. 
Sangervilie,  132. 
Saturday  Cove,  ri6. 
Saxons,  23 


i6o 


Index. 


Schoodic  T,akes,  131,  14S. 
Schooner  Head,  126. 
Scots,  105. 
Seal  Harbor,  123. 
Searsport,  116. 
Sebasticook  River,  38,  42. 
Sebec,  132. 
Sebenoa,  22,  71. 
Seboois  Lake,  131. 
Seven  Ponds,  60,  83,  154. 
Sheep  Pond,  132. 
Sheepscot,  Old,  loi. 
Sheepscot  River,  icx). 
Shell  Heaps,  105. 
Sherman,  139,  141,  153. 
Ship-building,  23,  16,  91,  92, 

129. 
Ship  Pond,  133. 
Shirley,  68,  133,  152. 
Silver,  no. 

Skovvhegan,  60,  62,  153. 
Slate,  131,  133. 
Small  Point,  151. 
Smith,  Capt.  John,  93,  119. 
Smithlield,  153. 
Soldier's  Monuments,  33,  49, 

90,  96,  118,  127. 
Solon,  63,  153. 
Somes's  Sound,  122,  123.   . 
Somerville,  224. 
Sophie  May,  56. 
Southwest  Harbor,  122. 
Spencer  Bay,  135. 
Springfield,  153. 
Squam  Heights,  102. 
Squanto,  96. 

Squaw  Mountain,  134,  135. 
Squirrel  Island,  96,  15 1. 
Starks,  60. 
State  House,  32. 


Stations,  7. 
Steamer,  First,  76. 
Steamboats,  Ancient,  14,  41. 
Stedman,  quoted,  2. 
Stirling,  105. 
Stogummor,  10. 
Stowe,  Mrs.,  5,  16,  19,  20. 
Strickland's  Ferry,  154. 
Strong,  78. 
Sugar  Island,   135. 
Sullivan,   127. 
Swan  Island,  22,  24. 
Swedes,  146. 

Talleyrand,  30. 
Temiscouata  Lake,  144. 
Thevet,  in,  119. 
Thomas  Hill,   130. 
Thomaston,  105. 
Thorndike,  151. 
Ticonic  Falls,  '^^,  40. 
Tim  Pond,  60,  154. 
Togus  Springs,  28,  35. 
Topsham,  21. 
Trescott,  127. 
Trout  Cove,  86. 
Turner,  47,  153. 

Umbagog  Lake,  88. 
Umbazooksus  Lake,  145. 
Umsaskis  Lake,  145. 
Unity,  151. 
Upper  Dam,  85,  154. 
Upper  Richardson  Lake,  86 
Upton,  88. 

Vanceboro',  141,  142,  153. 
Vassalboro',  37,   151. 
Vaughan,  Benjamin,  29. 
Veazie,  141,  142. 
Vinalhaven,  108. 


Waldoborough,  105. 

Waldo,  Gen.,  19,  23,  103,  106, 

117. 
Walker's  Pond,  120. 
Walnut  Hill,  44. 
Warren,  105. 

Washburn  Family,  73,  123. 
Water  Views,  7. 
Waterville,  39,  54,  151. 
Wayne,  153. 
Webber's  Pond,  39. 
Webb's  Pond,  74,  76. 
Webster,  72. 
Weld,  74,  76. 

Welokennebacook  Lake,  87. 
West  Auljurn,  47. 
West  Branch,  137. 
West  Dresden,  22. 
West  P^almouth,  14 
Westport,  95. 
West  Waterville,  39,  54. 
Whittier  quoted,  5,  20,  58,  67, 

81,  127,  139. 
Wilson  Ponds,  134,  151. 
Wilton,  74,  154. 
Winn,  153. 
Winterport,  118. 
Winthrop,  52,  153. 
Winthrop,   Theodore,    3,    86, 

87,  138. 
Winslow,  37. 
Wiscasset,  loo. 
Wood  Pond,  69. 
Woodford's  Corner,  13. 
Woolwich,  95,  99. 
Worumbo,  18. 

Yarmouth,  15,  151. 
York,  Duke  of,  103. 


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